Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate
by Shujin1
Summary: Lily Potter's pleas for her son caught the attention of someone it shouldn't have. Now that Death has taken a personal interest in him, what is life for Harry going to be like? Covers First Year
1. The Very Beginning

_**I encourage reviews of any type. **_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

* * *

_"The Weave is a natural phenomenon that allows mortals to accomplish great deeds of remarkable ingenuity or of startling brutality. Some liken the Weave to 'fate' or something as such that dictates a mortal's path. While this may be true or false it would be hard to prove, at least, that was the opinion around two hundred years ago. Now, we have perfected the art of creating portals into the netherworlds beneath us as well as observing our parallels in other planes. Magic has indeed come a long way but most are disappointed with our efforts. All we have managed to do is explain the reasons behind events, explain the rules of the universe, but now we are being asked to change those rules. That would mean changing the very Weave itself. Most have left, convinced that it was either impossible or idiotic. Mankind may be able to come to brilliant solutions but they are not always the best ones. Indeed it seemed impossible to change the Weave, for if the attempt to change it was successful, it meant that that success was woven into the pattern in the first place. It would need someone who wasn't included in that pattern to change it. And indeed, I was right. Do not grieve for me, rotting away in this prison. I did what I thought I should do, drove myself to do, and now I realise the futility of it all. I had created a being that could change the Weave. I had managed to drag my honour, reputation, morals into the dust and even the great Incarnates themselves into my foolishness." - Thaddeus Burwright, Unspeakable Traitor 1933_

* * *

Death blinked.

As a force of nature, Death was eternally tied to the Weave and through it, knew everything. It was literally impossible for Thanatos, Death's current Incarnation, to be surprised, startled, disturbed, wary, confused or disappointed. There was no such thing as the unexpected for Death, or at least, there had been.

Contrary to popular belief, Death was not at all involved in the ways of the mortal world. All she had to do was exist and the rest took care of itself. Any fatal injury fell under the jurisdiction of War. Famine had the cases of neglect, starvation and dehydration, while Plague had everything else including death by old age. A liberal dose of the Killing Curse, developed by a past Incarnation, sent the soul straight to the River of Mortality under Death's watchful eye. It was a system that had worked flawlessly since the beginning of time.

But now, there was a very noticeable chink.

"I know you," Death stated softly atop her throne, voice dusty from neglect. "Lily Marie Evans, or is it Potter now?" The anomaly didn't seem to hear her, but then again, Death didn't expect it to. It was female, transparent and vaguely colourless save for the soft green glow that indicated cause of death. The Killing Curse. She was already within the grasp of the River but there was a desperation to her...to her frantic movements against the current that gave Thanatos, and Death inside her, pause.

_**She knows that her time has come.**_ A void whispered with one thousand voices. _**It cannot be denial.**_

_Shall we see?_ Without waiting for a response, what Thanatos wanted Death wanted, the Incarnate wandered over to the riverbank and watched the strange soul carefully. Impossibly, the woman's will was enabling her to inch back against the tide. It would take millenia for her to get anywhere significant but Death was amused by the effort.

"No, not Harry, please not Harry. Take me -please!- instead, not my son! Have...mercy..." the soul of Lily babbled almost incoherently. Absentmindedly, Death reached out to the Weave searching for a "Harry Potter" and blinked again when she was abruptly shut out. That had never happened before.

"I agree it hasn't." Looking over her shoulder, she spotted the Weaver standing there holding a delicate, gossamer loom in her hands. "But it will happen should you attempt that again. That mortal's future is off limits."

_**The Weaver would deny us a mortal?**_ Thanatos smiled in order to convey the interest Death was feeling. _If we cannot observe from a distance... _She turned back to the struggling soul with an odd sense of anticipation welling in her chest. Perhaps she had left the mortal realm alone for too long.

"Lily Marie Potter nee Evans, would you have me Wait for your son, Harold James Potter?" She felt, rather than heard, the Weaver's gasp and the desperate gaze of a mother focused.

"Please..."

The smile widened. "So mote it be."

* * *

Number 12 Godric's Hollow was a scene of tragedy. A young couple had bright visions of a future where their baby boy could have a happy childhood. Where they no longer had to spent every waking moment in hiding. Where the war was over.

Somewhere along the line, a coward grew a twisted backbone and with two flashes of acid green light, that bright future shattered. The air was crackling with barely restrained energy as the Dark Lord Voldemort aimed his wand at a barely awake Harry Potter. The wards were malfunctioning, the heavy residue of the Killing Curse was swirling and the powerful love a mother had for her child was threatening to shake the very earth.

"Avada Kedavra!" The green lashed out again and in the seconds that it took to leap the distance to the target, Fate paused and withdrew her hand from the infant boy. The Killing Curse impacted, forcing the young Potter's soul out of his body-

_**WAIT.**_

And then it snapped back like a rubber band, the force of it reintegrating itself reversing the curse. There was a horrific scream of pain...and then sudden silence.

Little Harry sniffled, his breath coming in short puffs of frozen air, before glancing up. On moment there had been absolutely nothing there and the next...Standing there was a strange woman; there was long snow-white hair, sickly pale skin and the most peculiar golden eyes with sickle pupils.

She tutted to him. "All of this, for you?" Death didn't find the babe very impressive, for he was so very weak. It could be said that she regarded him as something lower than dung. Hardly fit to exist.

"Come now, Thana." The Weaver was behind her and Thanatos could imagine the mysterious smile on her face. "I'm sure he'll turn out to be at least somewhat entertaining."

The Incarnate turned to gaze at her coldly. "He had better." A large man burst into the room, wild eyed and bushy bearded, yelling something incomprehensible. "_**He had better**_."

* * *

Tell me what you think and, if I accidently copied someone, please let me know! You never know when one of your brilliant ideas was already taken. Read and Review please!


	2. Boy Who Lived

**_I encourage reviews of any type._**

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

"_Buried beneath and between all layers of reality were the Realms, pockets of non-existence that act as a counterbalance for the two extremes of the universe: Never and Always. The Realms should be nebulous, expanses of nothing, formless unless claimed by one of the Incarnates. It is through these that we believe doorways are formed into other worlds, dimensions and parallels. Unclaimed Realms are an infinite source of power, or, they would be. The only example we have is beyond the Veil and so far, none have returned…" - Unspeakable Hanson 1973_

* * *

At age 11, Harry Potter had already died four times.

The first time had been when he was about 15 months old and received a rather peculiar scar on his forehead as a result. He still wasn't exactly sure of the details but there was absolutely no reason to believe in the story of a drunken car crash. Something else happened but he had no idea what, except that he died.

It had been sometime after he had arrived on the Dursley's doorstep, but it became apparent that simply locking him in the house was not the end-all-be-all solution. Once the neighbor inquired about him and how little he was seen outside. Not to be seen as "abnormal" Harry was once reluctantly brought to the pool, but it quickly became not-fun when Dudley and his friends began to pick on him. With no adults around to care, Aunt Petunia was gossiping and the life guard was trying to get Uncle Vernon to move the car, Harry's head was held under water for far too long. That had been the second time he died.

The third time had been last week. He was cleaning the rain gutter like Aunt Petunia told him to when a sudden gust of wind caught him off balance. It had hurt for a second as his head hit the pavement but he was up for dinner, and he made another tally in his journal. Three times.

At school and from books in the library, Harry learned that when most people died they either went to heaven with the angels, or they burned forever in hell. There were studies about the "tunnel" effect when people saw a bright light as they were dying and he wondered about the purgatory, reincarnation, nirvana and all of the other things that were supposed to happen after you died.

For reasons that Harry could only chalk up to his "freakishness," he didn't die the normal way. There were no angels, fire, demons or a bright light but there was _Her._ And whenever he saw _Her_ he knew that he had just died.

The first time he remembered seeing_ Her_ was when he drowned.

His lungs felt like it couldn't hold any more water, and just when he thought that he couldn't even attempt to breathe, she was there. Sitting at the bottom of the pool was a woman all in black, reclining lazily. One leg was stretched out, the other bent up and she was leaning back on her elbows just watching him. She had long black hair that floated in the water and eyes such a pale blue that at first glance he couldn't see that she had an iris. Very fair skin and a cruel smirk.

Harry tried yelling at her, pleading and begging for her to do something but all he got was a nod and two words whispered in his ear: "I'm Waiting." Several seconds later a frantic life guard pulled him out and with a sharp blow on the back, made Harry cough up several liters of water. The day after she was smirking at him from outside his window, a week later he labeled her a friend.

The fourth time he died was right after he got his Hogwarts letter.

* * *

"Dudley, get the mail." Uncle Vernon was a man who was really too large, with a protruding stomach, thick limbs and very little neck. He had several chins and rapidly thinning hair. In order to make up for the growing bald spot, there was a large mustache commandeering his upper lip.

"Why don't you make Harry do it?" Cousin Dudley reminded Harry of a pig. He had beady, watery blue eyes and was already working on a third chin. If Harry didn't know any better, he would say that Dudley spent every waking moment eating in bed.

"Don't bother Uncle Vernon." Harry himself didn't look like he was related to them at all. He was proud of his black mop of hair (even if he could never get it to lay flat) and green eyes. He was even prouder of the thin frame he had. It was just right for someone like him.

Harry slipped back into the house, shuffling through the mail. Bills, bills, credit card offer, bank statement, more bills…he paused at an odd feeling envelope. It wasn't paper, that he knew, and it had a fancy crest on the back depicting four animals: a snake, an eagle, a badger and a lion with green 'H' in the center. It was addressed to:

_Harry J. Potter_

_Surrey, Little Whinging_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Smallest Bedroom_

The boy blinked a few times, trying to convince himself that this was real. _It's here, my Hogwarts letter is here!_ He tossed the rest of the mail onto the table and then stopped cold. _How am I going to tell her?_

He slid into his seat and stared at his omelet. As far as he knew, Thana came by whenever she felt like it, nothing more and nothing less. All on a whim. She told him about magic and this acceptance letter but it still…

It was the best thing that ever happened to him! He was going to learn magic! He was a wizard like his parents! And-

And he had no way to share it with his only friend.

He jerked a little. Unless…He peered up through his bangs at his uncle and cousin. Both looked busy, Dudley was stuffing his face and Vernon was multitasking between eating and reading. Aunt Petunia wouldn't come down until he was out of the house. Her "fool-proof" way of avoiding the "ghost" that popped up whenever Thana was feeling playful and wanted to bother his relatives.

The shed was locked rather solidly so he couldn't get something there. And he had no doubt that Uncle Vernon would get stubborn if he pulled out the steak knives. He shoveled the rest of his breakfast into his mouth before putting the plate into the sink and the letter into his back pocket.

"I'm going to clean out the rain gutter!"

Ten minutes later saw Harry standing on top of the roof looking down. It was easy enough getting up there and he had kicked the ladder away so he wouldn't lose his nerve. But ten minutes and all he had done was stand there, shaking. It seemed like a good idea at the time but now…?

He resisted the urge to slap himself. He had died before. If he did it now he might be alive again in time for lunch.

With that thought, Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, closed his eyes and jumped off the roof.

* * *

_This place...is beautiful..._he was standing on a beach of some sort with literally rolling hills. Black sand stretched in all directions until it disappeared into white smoke. There was no breeze, but whips of fog curled in the air before fading gently. A river bed filled with black sludge was to the left, meandering to nowhere, and to the right was a massive oval structure hidden underneath a tarp. It gave Harry an uneasy feeling, especially since it was bound with chains thicker than oaks that seemed to be straining against something. _I really hope they don't break..._

"Welcome." He jumped guiltily. "To Tartarus, Potter."

She was closer than he realised, only a meter or so behind him, dressed in black as always. She was sitting rather imperiously on the edge of an obsidian dais, like a princess, or a maybe a queen on her throne. Familiar smirk in place, she was staring down at him expectantly.

"Thana..." he breathed before smiling happily. It worked!

* * *

**So, he finally did it.**

_He did and is now dead._

**Dead but not within our River for Judgment, we did not Wait for him this time.**

_Indeed, we did not. It's possible that he will meet our other requirements..._

_**Perhaps, the young Potter might be worth it after all.**_

* * *

She inclined her head at the boy and the smirk grew. "Enjoy your stay."

* * *

Tell me what you think about it, especially if anything that** isn't** purposely vague is confusing. Please Read and Review!

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	3. Boy Who Died

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"It has been a suspicion that many of the prominent figures of history were well aware of the Weave and were not inclined to share their knowledge. It didn't seem coincidence that all Dark Lords and many Light wizards over the years, pursued immortality, and that their research ran in the same vein: manipulating the soul, attempting to cheat Fate. Of Horcruxes, the darkest and most vile of all magics, we shall say no more." – Excerpt, book unknown. _

* * *

"And how do you plan on getting there?" Harry and his best friend, only friend, were sitting on the riverbank, watching the sludge meander on. Despite the fact that her Tartarus was the second largest Realm, it was very empty, holding only Death's three possessions: the River of Mortality, also known as Styx, Oblivion's Gate and her Throne. The oppressive feeling of non-existence muted all sounds into near silence, but for some reason, Harry found it fascinating.

The boy's mouth moved in answer to her question and Thana plucked the words out of his mind. "Getting Uncle Vernon to drop me off in London shouldn't be hard," he mouthed grinning. "A few tricks from 'Thana the poltergeist' and they can't get me out of the house fast enough."

She ruffled his hair, slightly distracted. "Your relatives," she mused and Death amplified her voice enough for him to hear. "When the time comes they will get no favors from me."

He dug his toes into the black sand with an embarrassed air about him. "They aren't the nicest people, yeah…" There was a minute or two of silence as he worked up the courage for whatever he was about to say. "Can you…um," he scratched the back of his neck. "Will you come with me? I-I don't…" he trailed off as a flush began to work its way up his face.

Thanatos tilted her head to the side. "I suppose I could…" he brightened. "But first, how are you coming back to life this time?"

The horrified look on his face was very entertaining; she didn't have to peek into his thoughts to know that he didn't even think of the possibility that he might die for good. "Y-you can't…?" Since the second time he died, Harry had accepted the fact that Thana was different than most people. She could float around, was invisible to everyone but him, didn't seem to need oxygen or food, and he knew for a fact that his immortality had something to do with her as well.

"Taking life is easier than giving it," she said cryptically. Harry was beginning to wonder if she had been born with that derisive smirk on her lips. It would explain why it appeared so often.

"I-I…" Okay, so maybe jumping off the roof hadn't been his best idea. "But-!"

Her lips twitched suspiciously, blue eyes glinting in amusement, but she didn't laugh. "Relax." She waved off his indignant look. "Palquenta owes me more than a few favors."

Harry nodded and then did a double take. "Pal-who?"

* * *

Over the years, Headmaster Albus Dumbeldore had been getting increasingly paranoid about the well-being of one Harry J. Potter.

No one except him knew exactly why he had been jumping at shadows lately, but even Fawkes seemed concerned. Medi-witch Pomfrey had already stuffed too many Dreamless Sleep and Calming potions to count down the old man's throat, and despite her threats of a year-long stay in the Hospital Wing, he never told anyone what was wrong.

Harry Potter had been living in constant danger.

The first time the alarm went off, designed to alert him whenever the boy was in mortal peril, he nearly had a heart attack. He might have been a little over-bearing on the auror Cornelius had finally given him to go check number 4 Privet Drive, but when it came to the possibility of Death Eaters seeking revenge, manners took a back seat.

He had been a right bundle of nerves when Shacklebolt came back but the report puzzled him. Apparently, he had caught the Dursleys and Harry returning from a trip to the pool. All of them perfectly fine. He mentioned that the boy in question looked a little thin, especially compared to his cousin, a little blue around the lips but otherwise healthy.

Alive.

At the time, he suspected the alarm (it was a remarkable looking gadget, resembling some muggle gears with red glass orbs imbedded in the middles) to be somewhat broken. It had been several years since he had charmed something like it, after all. Perhaps he made a mistake.

The second time, he took extra care and when it went off, he was absolutely positive that Harry was in grave danger. That time he had sent Shacklebolt once more, along with Minerva and Severus, under glamour, of course. When they returned, not only was Harry happily removing a ladder from the driveway but the potions master made some jabs at the boy's mental state. All three shushed him; it was common for children to have imaginary friends. Nothing to worry about from that end.

But he had been extremely confused. It was a good thing that the alarm never actually indicated that the boy was dead (something so grossly inaccurate would have him turning the job over to Filius) but he never stopped worrying. It was aggravating, really.

He was neither terribly surprised nor relieved when his alarm went off the third time. He dragged himself over to the right corner of the room and took a peak. The orbs were glowing slightly as a banshee's wail woke up the portraits in his office. Harry was in mortal peril. Like he had been twice before.

He already had a pinch of Floo powder in his hand when the red abruptly turned black. His heart stopped. _Harry!_ Barely waiting for the flame to turn green he roared, "Arabella Figg's!" and was whisked away. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

Heaven forbid the boy was actually dead this time.

* * *

Harry was trotting along slightly behind Thana's rather tall form through the "Mists." It was what she called the blanket of smoky white that lined the edges of her Realm and was the only way they could visit the Realm of another. The "only way" didn't make him feel very good. With no landmarks he could easily imagine getting lost forever and every so often, a sudden chill would rack his frame.

Thana didn't slow down but she did watch him out the corner of her eye. The blue in them seemed to glow as she tilted her head towards him. "That cold you feel…"

"Hmm?" he hummed sleepily. He was starting to feel a bit numb.

She faced forwards again. "It's the feeling a mortal gets when they pass through the divide between Realms. These," her hand waved a small arc. "These are Unclaimed Realms of nothing." He jumped a little when her hand fell on his shoulder, it was almost burning hot. "We'll be there soon."

He strained his eyes, trying to pierce through the fog and see where it was they were going. Nothing appeared but he was getting the strange feeling that the Mists were getting denser. "Where are…" he blinked. They were there.

The ground was rolling like Tartarus, but instead of sand it was honest-to-goodness grass covering it as far as he could see. There were flowers of all kinds: daisies, dandelions, tulips, daffodils and strange, blue solitary roses. Unlike the other Realms, this one had a sky which was a myriad of colours ranging from light blue to a golden yellow.

Impossibly, there were also a few rabbits and a deer nearby. _This is amazing!_

"She named it Zion," Thanatos offered, looking bored and unimpressed. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Harry blinked as she started walking again. There was a – a bitterness in her tone that he didn't think her capable of. Was she jealous?

* * *

**Control yourself.**

_I apologize…_

* * *

"Why are there animals here?" A horse had passed by them and so did a big-beaked bird that Harry had never seen before.

"Every type of creature that ever existed is here. Pal gets emotionally attached to anything Always makes, so she keeps one of everything here after they go extinct. She'll probably have a human here too before long."

"Always?" Harry questioned with a frown. He could hear the capital letter. "Is that like God?" She raised an eyebrow and he immediately knew that she wasn't going to answer that. "Does that mean that dinosaurs are here?" Harry had a few archeology books and realized that this could be his chance to see if scientists were right with the looks of a Stegosaurus.

"I said everything, didn't I?"

"Wicked!"

They didn't walk for much longer, mostly because Thana suddenly stopped for no reason that he could see. There _was_ a huge, majestic tree a little off to the right but… "Um…" he began.

"Pal can get a bit testy if anyone touches her Tree without permission."

Harry boggled. "What does a tree have to do with anything?"

"Everything," someone said airily. "Did you teach him to be this ignorant, Thana?"

The dark-haired woman's lip curled. "I'm calling in a favor, Pal. No games."

The air shimmered (did the Realms have air? Harry wondered absently) and Palquenta faded into view. She reminded the boy of the stereotypical angel he saw in the books he was using to research his deaths. Blond hair that was almost white, electric blue eyes and she was currently wearing a disappointed frown. Dressed all in white, she looked like the polar opposite of Thanatos.

"This…thing…is your Choice?" she sneered in Harry's direction. "Oh, Thana, how far you've fallen."

Harry's little fists clenched painfully. "Friend of yours?" he bit out, looking murderous.

The smirk was back. "Hardly."

* * *

Vernon Jonathan Dursley was always right.

At first, when his Petunia began to complain about the toddler left on their doorstep as being "freakish," he had agreed without really knowing what "freakish" meant. After the little freak got hold of his milk bottle from the other side of the room without touching it, he understood and agreed wholeheartedly.

He immediately suggested getting rid of it. There was no need to have something like _it_ ruin their normal lives and infect his boy, Dudley. It was disease, he told his wife. If they kept it, more of those freaks would show up in no time. She insisted that if they kicked it out, the freaks would come for revenge but now, now he had his proof that he was right.

Petunia might not think that their haunted house was evidence of spreading "freakishness" but he certainly did. And the old codger that had invaded his fine home was just another notch on the old belt. Really, what was he going to do with a stick anyway?

The answer was too much.

When Dumbeldore realized that no one in the house was going to open the door, despite being home and visible from the window, a well placed Reducto blasted it off the hinges. Harry was in danger, possibly dead, he had no time for pleasantries!

"Where's Harry!?" he shouted in panic. _Where's the boy? Where is he?_

Vernon patted the shotgun on his lap. "He's out back, cleaning the rain gutter still." He said quite calmly for the circumstances. The old coot had nothing on the resident ghost and Vernon had handled _that_ like a man. Cinched up his belt and called the repairman a few times, he did. "Now what are you doing in my house!"

Dumbeldore didn't answer, out the house and heading around the side faster than his age might suspect. The backyard was empty but he was running through every single tracking and detecting spell he knew of in a few seconds. He _needed_ to find the boy. Harry _needed_ to be safe.

* * *

Harry was looking dubiously at the leaf in his hand. "You want me to eat this? Really?" Thana rolled her eyes while Palquenta growled. He had asked about five times already but really, he didn't know the tree and he wasn't going to chew on a _leaf_ just because someone who didn't like him said so.

"If you want to live again, you must."

He gave "Pal" a suspicious look that made her bristle, and then shrugged. "Just making sure." He put it in his mouth and blinked in surprise when it melted. "Hey, that-"

* * *

Albus was beginning to lose hope. There was nothing. The entire yard, the entire neighborhood was clean of any magic traces other than the ones belonging to him. Harry was gone.

It wasn't possible! The Blood Wards were the strongest protection the boy could have! How could this happen!? He was already preparing a speech for what he would say to the Minister of Magic when a tiny groan sounded from behind him.

A small boy with messy, black hair, muggle clothing and thin, wire-frame glasses was on the ground, stumbling to his feet. Albus' nerves frazzled. _How? "_Harry?"

The boy continued to groan but this time there were a few words interlaced. "Damn it…tree…stupid…leaf…Thana, bloody hell my head…gonna kill Pal…" Blinking the wizard watched helplessly as the boy disappeared around the corner of the house and there was the sound of the front door opening…and then closing.

Harry wasn't dead but he had most certainly not been on the lawn the entire time. The only question was: where did he go? Not wanting to tip his hand before the semester started, Albus Dumbeldore placed a tracking charm on the boy and apparated away.

* * *

"You never told me that it would hurt this much."

"Ha! Next time, don't off yourself and you'll have nothing to worry about. You're lucky that you can walk away from dying."

Harry smiled then, absently fingering the sickle-shaped scar on his forehead. "Yeah...lucky."

* * *

Incarnates met so far:

Thanatos: The Incarnation of Death, the very one vaguely mentioned in Greek mythology. Her Realm is called Tartarus, the world beneath Hades in myth, and is the ultimate prison. Artifacts: River Styx, the Throne and Oblivion's Gate.

Palquenta: The Incarnation of Life, a goddess of the occult and pagan religions. Her Realm is Zion and is the most open of all Realms, to the point where even Seers can See into it. Possibly the origin of the legend of Heaven. Artifacts: Tree of Life, Emerald River and the Rose.

The Weaver: The Incarnation of Fate and responsible for the Weave. Her Realm has not yet been visited.

Tell me what you think!


	4. Choosing the Wizard

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"It is not possible, that wands are only tools. 'The eyes are the windows to the soul' one fool said when he developed Legilimency, but he was mistaken. The eyes are the most sensitive and delicate parts of the physical body, but they have nothing to do with the core essence of a person's very being. In order to be a successful wand-crafter, you must know this: the wand chooses the wizard. Every wand is predestined for someone and every aspect means something. The wood, the cores, the colour of the sparks a chosen wand lets loose…and pay special attention to brother wands. If you are lucky, the Weave itself might teach you something through them." –Excerpt from __So You Want to be a Wand-crafter_ _by Donovan Ollivander_

* * *

Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey was a house just like the others in the neighbourhood. It had the same kind of roofing that its neighbours did; a respectable off-white colour of siding, a nicely cared for driveway, handsome front door and a beautiful garden. The front lawn never got out of hand, the rain gutters remained debris-free and there were no pets to ruin anything. Quaint, quiet and normal. It was the ideal home.

When Vernon Dursley awoke to see a butcher knife hovering in front of his face, his dream shattered.

"BOY!"

Down the hall, Harry Potter began to curse up a storm as he threw his clothes on and tossed his PJs. He had a small bedroom, the smallest one, with some second-hand furniture. There was only one window, and a small closet, but it was loads better than the cupboard under the stairs. Usually, every morning, he would thank Thana for getting him moved but at the moment, he wasn't feeling very grateful.

"Damn it, Thana…Bloody hell, I said 'When I'm ready!'" He stuffed his feet into his rather worn sneakers. "I'm not ready!" Deciding that tying them would take too long, he banged open his bedroom door and dashed down the hall. "I'm coming, Uncle Vernon!" He reached the open bedroom door and stopped, eyes bulging.

Aunt Petunia was still sleeping; a blindfold was attached to her face, completely oblivious to the fact that she was trapped. The sheets around her were stuck to the mattress by steak knives, imbedded to the hilt. Uncle Vernon was only in pants (look away, look away!) with a butcher knife hovering just beneath his third chin. What Harry could see, and no one else, was a dark haired woman with a Cheshire grin he knew was responsible.

He glared at her subtly. "Uncle Vernon…"

The large man was almost vibrating with rage. "YOU! FREAK…G-GHOST!" He sputtered angrily and Harry tilted his head in mock-confusion. Vernon was doing well today. The last time Thana pulled something this morbid (wrote in red paint on the kitchen wall) he had fainted. "GET OUT AND…AND!"

"London!" Harry blurted and barely stopped himself from stuffing his fist in his mouth. That was stupid, he needed transportation! Vernon was too angry to do him a favour! They just might leave him there! He turned the glare up another notch in an effort to get his friend to behave. It didn't work. The knife stayed right where it was.

Vernon was turning purple. "WHAT!?"

Aw, hell. "London has a lot of people," Harry began to ramble, thinking fast. "Maybe I can take the ghost with me and it will find someone else it'd rather haunt!" His uncle's eyes narrowed while Thana began to get an indignant look on her face.

"Planning to just give me away, boy?" she sniped at the same time Vernon grunted, "It better not come back!"

Harry resisted the urge to beat his head against the wall. _Shut up, Thana!_ He thought fiercely. This was already a bleeding nightmare. "If it doesn't work, I'll be away at school till Christmas. It follows me, you won't have to deal with it then!"

Yesterday, neither Uncle Vernon nor Aunt Petunia was very happy with the revelation that Harry was going to Hogwarts. They wailed about "freakishness" and "infecting Duddykins" but in the end, the fact that Harry would be gone, the "ghost" would leave them alone and they didn't have to pay for it won out. Harry had spent a few hours last night bouncing ideas off Thana on how to get to Charing Cross. Diagon Alley was too "freakish" of a place for them. He had _thought_ that he had reached an understanding with his pocket poltergeist.

Apparently not.

"It had better or it's back in the cupboard for you!" Vernon roared who then cowered when the knife began to press against his skin.

The boy rolled his eyes. "I promise."

23 minutes later, thoroughly annoyed, Harry was admiring his face in the car window. The reason why? He was giving Thana the silent treatment.

"You rather resemble a prat right now." Harry bristled but kept quiet, concentrating on his scar. It was a weird one. It looked like a lop-sided phase of the moon, uneven and elongated. Thana had once called it "sickle-shaped" but if he tilted his head just…so…it looked like a scythe. Which was wicked.

The car pulled to a stop and Harry scrambled out before his uncle found reason to yell at him. It was a Sunday, but he didn't think that wizards particularly cared about Sunday Trading Laws. Uncle Vernon would be back to pick him up around 2pm. Hopefully.

"You better be right about the vault," Harry muttered as he watched his uncle's car speed away.

He was whacked upside the head for the comment. "So now you decide to talk to me. Typical." He made a face but began to scan the stores for any sign of entrance into the wizarding world. There were a few weirdly dressed people around (muggles, he reminded himself.) so they were close…but where!?

Thana knew where it was and she knew he knew she knew. But she had already "informed" him that she was just tagging along for the ride. Or, as she put it: "So wittle Potter doesn't get wost!" Sometimes her mood-swings and bipolar-ness really annoyed him.

There was a flash of black out the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw it. The "Leaky Cauldron." He didn't know how but he knew that was it, many of the fashion disasters hung around it and there was this feeling…

"Are we going to stand here and watch it all day?"

Glaring, he marched forwards.

The Leaky Cauldron seemed like some kind of pub to the wizard-hopeful and it confused him. Where was the magic? The shops? There were quite a few old folks nursing drinks instead and the balding bartender was "cleaning" a glass with a dirty dish towel.

Harry gagged. "Roight…not eating here…ever." Thana nudged him from behind and he reluctantly approached the counter. "Um, sir?"

"Hey, laddie?" The man grinned a grin that was missing a few teeth. Harry hid a grimace.

"How do I get to Diagon Alley?"

"Hogwarts, eh? It's just out back. Where's your parents?" The boy frowned and gave the smirking Thana a sharp look. The sound of a bouncing glass swivelled his head back around to the bartender, who now looked like he saw a ghost. _Oh no, he can't-_ "Bless my soul, it's Harry Potter!"

The pub went dead silent and Harry paled.

"Bloody hell!" People swarmed him, coming out of the woodwork and from under the tables it seemed.

"You did a great thing for us, Mr. Potter-"

"Mr. Potter! My name is Elias Woodworth, my mum was an auror when You-Know-Who-"

"Harry, boy! Pleased to meet-"

"Potter!"

Harry couldn't breathe, his arm was already aching from the amount of pumping people were giving his hand. They were everywhere, faces blurred and room was so oppressive…like a trapped animal he searched for familiar blue eyes…Thana, where was she! There was a flash of black…

"SILENCE!" All of the sudden, Harry was left alone in the middle of the room, panting. "You all should be ashamed of yourselves, crowding the poor child like that! Look at him!" _Yeah, look at me, _Harry thought a bit confused. That voice had sounded _very_ familiar, he could have sworn that was Thana but it was impossible. No one else but him could see or hear her!

Someone grabbed him by the shoulder and propelled him out the back door. Refusing to be kidnapped, he jerked away and stared up at-

"Thana!?"

She gave him a rueful grin which soon morphed into that goddamned smirk of hers. "'Lo there, Potter."

"Buh-but how! I-I mean…wha?" She still looked the same as always, weird black hooded robes and wild long hair but her eyes were this electric blue that brought Palquenta to mind. As he watched, the vibrant shade gradually faded into the almost white they were before.

So, she could pick and choose who saw her? Harry almost smacked himself: Thana wasn't a ghost…she just lived in another _universe_!

He scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed at where his thoughts were taking him. Did that make her an alien? "So…" he coughed. "What was that back there?"

Thana approached the dead-end brick wall behind him and began to inspect it. "You're famous," she said flippantly.

"What!?"

"They call you the Boy-Who-Lived. In regards to your parents, care to figure out why?" Before he could even think to demand an explanation, she tapped one of the bricks. The wall opened, bricks falling away in a spiral, revealing a massive arch over the continuation of the alley. "Diagon Alley" it read and Harry's complaints died in his throat.

Thana stepped through and looked back over her shoulder coyly. "Coming?"

* * *

The first stop was the wizard bank: Gringotts.

"Do you have your key?"

Harry stared at the goblin in incomprehension. It had been bad enough to find out that little monsters were in charge of his money but what rankled even worse was how Harry's ignorance was making him feel. Thana was helpful but she wasn't a wizard. Non-wizard help could only go so far. Especially since she refused to come into the bank with him.

"Sorry, I never knew that I had a key. Is there any way I could access my vault without it?"

The goblin peered up at him suspiciously but produced a lump of what looked like solid gold from underneath the counter. "You want to claim the Potter vault? Hold this."

The Boy-Who-Lived was sceptical but grabbed it anyway. What's the worse it could do, kill him? There was a sudden, blinding pain in answer to his question. It felt like he had dipped his whole arm in acid. He gritted his teeth in an attempt not to scream and just when he thought his arm was literally going to fall off-

It stopped. There was a _ping! _And a delicate golden key popped out of his hand onto the counter. Shuddering, he flexed his fingers to chase away phantom twinges. The goblin picked it up and slipped it into an envelope.

"Griphook!" Another goblin, this one with a nasty sneer on his face, sidled up. "Take Mr. Potter down to his vault."

Harry's enthusiasm about entering the wizarding world took a big hit when he was taken to a mining cart. No seatbelts, no restraining bars…no brakes…The goblin climbed in after him and grabbed hold of the lever that protruded from the bottom. "Potter vault." There was a jerk and Harry's stomach dropped to his toes.

"You knew!" Harry exclaimed after stumbling out of the bank. Thana was leaning against one of the pillars, eyes a brilliant blue, looking smug.

"Wonderful shade of green you've got going on there, boy." Harry's heart was still in his throat and his stomach wouldn't stop doing the pirouettes. He was too angry to admit that he was sick, and he was too sick to admit that he was angry so he settled for a happy medium: annoyed.

"Any more surprises?" he asked sarcastically. He noticed the colour of her eyes and figured her to be "substantial" and therefore didn't worry too excessively about appearing crazy. He just wished she told him she could do that earlier.

"None at the moment, now come along. We're buying everything except the robes and trunk." Grumbling, Harry followed her after relinquishing his hold on the money bag. If he asked why they weren't getting everything, she wouldn't answer. If he tried to pry about what surprises there would be later, she wouldn't answer that either. It was a good thing he trusted her or they'd never get anything done.

* * *

The last stop was Ollivander's.

Harry walked in first and felt a tingle pass through his body. The wand store looked even older on the inside than it did out. There were racks upon racks of wooden sticks (wands, think wizard Harry!) and several of them were perched on cushions in the window. The place seemed empty.

"Ah, Mr. Pot-" Harry whirled around and saw an old man openly staring at Thana. Uneasy, he gave his friend a questioning look only to see a bemused expression on her face.

The man's misty eyes snapped back to Harry and then slowly travelled up to his scar. "Curious, Mr. Potter," the old coot (Ollivander?) intoned. "Most curious indeed." Thana got another look. "Wait just a moment."

"That was Ollivander." Thana said after the old man disappeared into the back of the store. "He was always a bit strange."

Harry gave her an odd look. "You know him?" he asked while stomping this small flame of jealousy out of existence. It wasn't hard to believe that Thana had other friends besides him…who knew how long she'd been alive...how old was she anyway?

"Knew would be more appropriate."

Ollivander came back carrying an open box almost reverently. "Try this one, holly and phoenix feather, curious combination."

As soon as Harry's hand closed around it, he knew this was the one. A warm and _powerful_ feeling flooded through him, banishing his lingering nausea and pain. The wand seemed to actually sing. He flicked it and his face lit up with glee as black and white sparks flooded the store. It was perfect. It was _his._

"How much!?"

* * *

Ollivander, wand crafter, watched in dismay as Harry Potter casually handed his wand over to the spectre beside him. A wand was a personal item and more than one wizard had left his shop clutching it protectively. _So Mr. Potter has a close relationship with Death, does he?_ _Then again, I suppose it is to be expected._ He had recognized that look on the boy's face, and the colour of the magic sparks…

"We can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter," he commented softly as his latest customer literally skipped out of his store.

_"Terrible…but great."_

* * *

As always, tell me what you think! I'll never hold a story hostage, but its nice to get reviews.


	5. Off to Hogwarts

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"This obsession with blood purity is nonsense. If magical blood is the standard for a being's worth, then humans are at the bottom! Both types of elves, giants, goblins, werewolves and vampires, they don't have a magical core. They don't need it! Their entire body contains the magical essence, it is not possible for there to be a vampire 'squib' and a werewolf 'muggle' is a dead one. Magic can be bred out of a human family as easily as it was bred into it but we strut around, wearing our arrogance like cloaks and flaunting our blood. The muddiest blood of them all." - Excerpt from __Blood Myth__ by Elijah Hufflepuff (Banned by the Ministry of Magical Britain)_

* * *

With an outsider eye, all that could be seen was two women facing each other in the Mists. One had a rather dark appearance with black, slightly tattered and decorated with silver swirls, robes clashing painfully with chalk-white skin. Equally dark long hair, while free of tangles and knots, fell in waves every which way. The one visible eye was a blue so pale that at first glance it didn't seem to be there at all. The overall picture was stern and unforgiving, or it would be, if not for the mocking smirk on her face and lazy posture.

The other seemed shrouded in mystery. She was equally pale but both her eyes and hair were a royal purple. There was a haze about her, the only thing definite were the colours, and it prompted the eye to just slide off any distinct features. The only thing that stood out was the sparkling and pristine gossamer loom in her hands.

Both were in mortal shells but what lay inside them...was something extraordinary.

"Tomorrow is the big day, Thanatos." Pale blue eyes narrowed slightly. "Can you keep hold of yourself for a whole school year?"

The smirk, once in amusement, turned cold. "I don't know, Fate. You tell me, can I?"

The other woman gave off the vague feeling of a frown. "Please, Thanatos. Don't try to call it out, it isn't fair and you know it."

The Weaver was the oldest among the current Incarnations; a fact that was determined by her memories. Everyone else but the Incarnation of Fate remembered, at one time, being mortal. Breathing, living, laughing, loving, hating and fearing, the Weaver had carried the burden of all existence since Always made Time. It had gotten to the point that she was no longer sure of her own being (was she Fate or was Fate her?) and watching the second eldest, Thanatos, coexist yet remain seperate, made her jealous.

Now that she was planning on leaving all of them behind, the Weaver no longer knew what to feel. The Weave had decided something about Death's Incarnate and it wasn't letting anyone know what.

"I'll make him immortal, you know." Thana said rather bluntly. "Give him all of eternity so I don't have to deal with it."

The Weaver's frown grew deeper. "You're being obnoxious and self-centered, staying in that body is obviously not good for you."

Thana's eyebrows knitted together in annoyance but her forehead soon smoothed out as she began to shift. Black hair bleached all colour out of itself, her pale skin turning sallow. Her body, which had been that of a woman in her late teens, thinned until she was more of an skeleton. And the eyes became Death's eyes: harshly gold and sickle pupils gave them the appearance of smiling.

"Satisfactory?" she rasped with a slightly manic grin.

"Quite, now let's try this again. Harry Potter is what to you?"

_**Our Choice.**_ Death suddenly boomed from out of Thanatos' mouth. _**As for what...**_ Gold eyes casually slid to the right and the Weaver's gaze followed it.

Oblivion's Gate.

* * *

_Death...would you really?_

* * *

Harry stared at the Harry Potter in the mirror.

"Wow..." He had to think of his reflection as Harry _Potter_ because it wasn't possible for him to be just Harry. Just Harry had longish, untamed hair, wore faded muggle clothing with beat up sneakers. Just Harry lived in the smallest bedroom with his relatives and just Harry just happened to have an invisible friend and an odd scar hidden under bangs. Harry Potter on the other hand, was a wizard. He wore expensively tailored black robes covered in silver swirls; decorations that matched his new, thin, silver framed glasses. His hair had been cut (he had fought with Thana for four hours over it but still lost) so it was now about an inch long on top, with the sides and back cut closer.

He turned his head a little. "Wow!" he said again. His favorite feature was a silver clasp in the shape of a sickle at his throat. He caught himself fingering it at least fifteen times today and each time he would get a knowing smile.

"Alright, stop ogling yourself." Came the bored voice above him. Thana was floating around on her back, looking uninterested. "I never pegged you for a self-lover."

"Oh please," Harry said with a teasing grin, eyebrows waggling. "I'm handsome and _you_ know it."

She snorted. "It will take half of eternity for you to turn heads."

He turned to her in surprise. _Eternity? _"Am I really going to live that long?"

"Don't piss me off and you might." Her hand waved in the air theatrically. "Time to go!"

With a shooing motion, his invisible best friend chased him out of the house with his trunk. By all rights, the thing should have been impossible to carry. It had no wheels and held all of his school stuff, robes and clothes in it. But it floated slightly above the ground and was also black. When he first saw it, Harry had made the mistake of saying that he didn't want to be "goth" and was promptly hit upside the head for it.

"Hey, Thana...?"

"Hmm?"

"How are we getting there?" Asking Uncle Vernon after the Diagon Alley episode was a definite no-no. He barely managed to talk himself out of being thrown in the cupboard.

Thana laid a hand on his head with a mischevious expression that made him nervous. "Hold on to that trunk, would you?"

"Wha-" He blinked. One moment, he was on the front lawn. The next..."The Mists?" He turned an accusing eye. "You mean I didn't have to die to come here!?" He paused as he realized something. "You could have just done this for Diagon Alley!"

He was really beginning to hate that smirk. "Yea, yes and yes," her smile grew wider. "Any other questions?"

He pouted in answer, watching the familiar white smoke trail past. _I never knew she could do this..._

"You don't know a lot of things, boy." Harry frowned slightly; she was back in her "cryptic mode" again. "When you're old enough, I'll teach you how to do this as well." There was a jolt and he found himself staring at a gorgeous red express engine. People in robes were milling around like ants, hugging their children, helping them onto the train or were just watching from the sidelines. On impulse, his hand found its way up to his forehead but he stopped it. His parents had died for him.

There was nothing to be ashamed of.

"Be yourself, Potter, I'm not going to tell you to keep anything secret." He smiled up at her, thankful. Acting like he was fragile would be a nightmare. "And keep those glasses on as often as you can."

His face turned confused. "Huh?"

"They're Corrective Lenses," she smiled mysteriously. "Before long you should be able to see things as they truly are." There was nothing he could say to that but "wicked" before marching forwards.

Thana wasn't going to come with him here, something about it being 'part of the experience' and a jab about him being a crybaby. _I'm not nervous,_ he thought to himself as he ducked around someone. _What do I have to be nervous about? It's just a train. _His heart was beginning to thud in his ears. _Just a train and a bunch of brats, that's all. Yeah..._He scrambled on, wishing Thana thought it necessary to ride with him. _I'm going to learn magic and everything will be fine till Christmas. _Trunk was shoved onto one of the shelves. _I'm fine! _Shaking slightly, he made himself comfortable on the seat in the last compartment on the train. It was empty and it stayed that way as the train began to pull out of the station. _Here we go..._He began to relax.

"Oi! Ronniekins, we found one!" Harry scowled to the window. _Wonderful. _Two identical carrot tops popped their heads in, smiling widely. "Ahoy there!" the one on the left called out. "We were just wondering..."

"If our baby brother can sit here with you!" the right continued.

"He can't seem to find a place..."

"To sit. He can't really follow us around..."

"It wouldn't be proper...

"And this is rather empty..."

Harry rolled his shoulders, a little irritated. "Fine, fine." There was the sound of retreating feet...and then approaching footsteps. An equally red headed boy, lanky with blue eyes, was shoved into the compartment, scowling. Mumbling something under his breath, he viciously pushed his battered trunk onto a shelf and sat down.

"You two play nice now!"

There was silence for a good five minutes. Harry was cursing his luck and Thana alternatively and the boy was stroking a fat rat. Why anyone would have a rat for a pet, the Boy-Who-Lived had no idea.

"I, uh, I'm Ron. Ron Weasley," was said in a small voice. Harry took pity on him.

"Harry Potter."

"You're Harry Potter!?" And then he regretted it.

"Yes, I'm Harry Potter," he muttered into the window. "Sod off the topic." Ron huffed but moved on.

"So, what's your favorite Quidditch team?" Harry turned from the view of the countryside to give the boy a look. Those blue eyes were hopeful and a bit begging, making the Potter frown. He was used to people giving him the cold shoulder once he got rude. Why was this one trying so hard to befriend him? Really? Because he was Harry Potter? He frowned deeper. This was going to be a problem, he could tell.

"Never played, never watched a game."

Ron raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You're kidding." Harry's face was starting to hurt from all the frowning.

"I'm not."

"B-But you're a wizard!"

Something flared in Harry's chest, a burning. "No shit, Sherlock!" Sharply, he faced the window again. _Damn it, bloody hell is it going to be like this all year!? _The wizarding world wasn't there for him when he was dropped off at the Dursleys. None of those people in the Leaky Cauldron sent him a note or stopped by to congradulate their "saviour" personally. There was _no one_ when he drowned, when he was hit for being "freakish,"when he was yelled at for showing up Dudley, when he was _in his cupboard_...

Harry took a deep breath. "Sorry, I just don't want to talk right now." _Part of the experience, huh? _He had the feeling that everyone on the train would react similarly. _Bloody hell, Thana...what's the hell is wrong with you making me go through this!_

Eventually, a lady with a trolly full of candy and food stopped by to interuppt the silence. Both boys waved her off, Ron in stammering apology and Harry because there was food in his trunk.

"Roast beef, why is it always roast beef, she knows I hate that..." drifted to Harry's ears.

"Here, I've got some stuff to share." _If only to stop your whining... _He pulled his trunk down, flicked it open and removed some packages. "Dweni pie," he offered and nearly sighed when Ron looked at it suspiciously. "It's not poisoned, you know."

The boy blushed. "I know, it's just...I've never heard of..." he trailed off, ducking his head. Harry mentally beat himself.

"It's, uh, its...a special recipe from a friend of mine. Perfectly safe!" Even with the recommendation from the "Great Harry Potter" (wonder if I'll ever get called that?) Ron bit into it slowly. After a moment of chewing, he blinked.

"Hey, this is really good!" And began to scarf it down like he had been starved for weeks. Harry started to eat, smiling inside. It tasted like a meat pie with a creamy brown sauce that was slightly spicy. _You never told me what is in this stuff...it better not be something disgusting._

The rest of the train ride was peaceful until this bossy and bushy haired girl began to get on their case about wearing the robes. "Go away," Harry nearly whined for the third time. "It's the first day, it won't matter!"

"Being Harry Potter doesn't put you above the rules! Hogwarts robes are to be worn at all school activities and this counts!" Green eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I'm not changing, stop wasting your breath and get out." The girl clammed up, turning red as Ron's eyes widened.

"Fine!" She stalked out with Harry's eyes boring into her back, making sure she didn't get the bright idea to try again. _It will be my luck that there isn't a single sane wizard in this school. My parents were probably bloody barmy. _It wasn't a comforting thought, but he was already here.

"Firs' Years! Firs' Years over this way!" Standing a ways from the train was a large bearded man near a lake, holding a lantern high. "Come on now! Four to a boat!" Harry tilted his head to the side. The giant looked...familiar...as if he saw him once a long time ago.

Ron joined him on the boat as well as a timid looking girl with red hair (how many red heads are there? Harry wondered. My mum was a carrot top too...) and an olive skinned boy with eyes that reminded him of Thana.

"Blaise Zabini." He said curtly and he immediately got points for not staring at Harry's scar.

"Susan Bones, n-nice to meet you...three..."

"Ron Weasley."

"Heads down!" All four ducked underneath a bridge, vines slapping the back of their necks.

"I want to fit in so...Harry Potter." Blaise shot him an amused look and Harry grinned. _Finally, someone sane..._ Once the boat came to stop, they all clambered out. Hogwarts was impressive, surely, being a giant castle on a lake after all. However, there was something missing. A feeling maybe, a comfort... _I miss her, _he realised as a meaty fist pounded on a large door. _That's strange...I'm homesick?_ The thoughts fled as a stern woman, black hair in a severe bun, opened to door.

"I'll take them from here, Hagrid." The halls were just like Harry imagined they would be: stone, cold and lined with suits of armor and portraits. What he didn't expect, was the sudden influx of ghosts. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"So these are what ghosts look like, huh?"

Startled, a young knight turned towards the group of "First Years." "Oh my, you're here already...enjoy your stay, hope we didn't frighten you."

"Ahem." All of them turned back to the guide who had reappeared. "Follow me."

* * *

"Potter, Harry!" Sweating, he ambled up to the stool and sat down. The hat engulfed his head, making him feel very small and alone as the world disappeared.

_My, my, my, what an interesting mind you have, Mr. Potter! _A voice whispered in his ear. _Interesting indeed...I see great intelligence and also a great sense of loyalty, even if it is to one person only. _There was a pause and he got the feeling that it was digging deeper into his head. It made him uneasy. _Well! I'll be, it seems that you have caught the attention of some interesting beings. There's ambition here, cunning and a reckless bravery too. Why, you're a match for all houses, where should I put you?_

_I don't know. _He almost shrugged. He didn't really care. _Where do people think I'll go?_

_Many are rooting for Gryffindor, you know, but Slytherin, yes the house of snakes will make you great. This connection with Death...I believe I have made up my mind, come and see me some other time. You will face many dangers, Mr. Potter from without and within but, for the moment, you better be...SLYTHERIN!_

Harry peeled the hat off to a silent hall.

* * *

Reviews are very welcome!


	6. Windows of Oppurtunity

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

"_It's been speculated that Grindelwald, the Dark Lord of 1926-1944, had been delving into extensive research about manipulating the Weave. Some thought that he was searching for true immortality; other believed that he wanted to hold the fate of the world in his hand. Personally, I am of the opinion that he tried to get to close to the role of 'god' in his studies, unaware or unbelieving that the Weave rules all. Only one person knows for sure what he was after and Albus Dumbeldore isn't telling." – Croaker_

* * *

Harry Potter awoke screaming.

He was covered in cold sweat, clawing air into his lungs as dark visions continued to assault his eyes. His scar _burned_ and there was this e_mptiness_ in his chest that almost seemed to swallow him-

It was gone.

"Damn, boy." He jerked upright at the familiar drawl. "Do I even want to know what it was about?" Harry managed to calm enough to turn his head to the voice, screw his eyes shut and stick out his tongue.

"Nyaahh!"

"Flattering." No one seemed to have heard him; Theodore Nott was still clutching his pillow and Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were still doing their impressions of the dead. Thana herself, was sitting in front of an open window on the windowsill, the black night sky sprinkled with stars just behind her. Harry's brow crinkled. The Slytherin dorms were in the dungeons of the castle, the vast majority of them underneath the lake.

So where did the window come from?

His heart suddenly thudded uncomfortably in his chest; feeling like it rolled over and went to sleep, making him start. "Did…did I…?"

Her expression was three quarters impish, one quarter wistful. "A heart murmur or heart attack, I'm not sure which one." She tapped her chin mockingly. "Either way, you almost died. Must have been some dream, hmm?"

The boy's mind turned inwards towards the night _terror_ and he shivered, hugging himself. "It was horrible!" he explained baldly. "My...my parents, I saw them and this voice! Red eyes and…" For a minute, the only sound in the room was that of Harry's harsh breathing. "Green light…it killed me." Disturbed, he rubbed his scar.

"Killed you? Not quite," she gave him a lopsided smile as her feet kicked the wall childishly. "But you can imagine that your would-be murderer was very upset."

Harry smiled at her odd sense of humour but it soon faded. "Why?" he whispered. Why him? Why his parents? Why the Dursleys? Why now? Why then?

Thana was looking uncomfortable and he realized he was crying. "Mind clearing that up a bit?" she asked tentatively. She never liked his "emo-swings" but sometimes he couldn't help it! His parents were _murdered _and people had been trying to kill him before his teeth came in for crying out loud!

"Why did he try to kill me?"

"Because he's a coward," was the blunt answer. "Because he plans strategic advances backwards away from the one thing he fears the most. Because he lies to himself, cheats and steals away from his future. Because _you_ remind him that he cannot change the Weave."

Harry frowned and began to think. He had heard of this 'Weave' before, once or twice from Thana who didn't have a high opinion of it. It was sentient and its whole purpose was to "meddle with Everything" (Thana's exact complaints). It was something like…what was the word she used? Something like fate. But what did he have to do with it?

"What do I have to do with it?"

Thana just smiled and looked out the window. A soft yellow glow was beginning to appear in the sky. "You ever wake up from a dream…into another one?"

Harry's face scrunched up in confusion. "Huh?"

"The second is not really a dream. When you're ready, I'll tell you," she stated absently then tilted her head towards him. The increasing brightness just beyond the window made her eyes seem to glow. "But until then, wake up." Her figure was starting to grow transparent, light beams shining right through.

He tried to reach out to her, to beg her not to leave him alone again because it was a nightmare being alone and not knowing what to do...but she faded away completely before he could move. There was a brilliant flash of green light and the feeling of something extremely cold and wet falling on him.

Harry Potter awoke screaming.

* * *

This place was not Tartarus.

Death's Realm was rather monochromatic with every substantial thing being black surrounded by the white of the Mists. It had a sense of depth, of height and length. Despite being part of non-existence, the Claimed Realms always had a powerful sense of being that confused the senses. It was impossible to feel, taste or smell anything but the body often did anyway. There was no air, but the illusion of reality was strong enough to make the mind think there was. The Claimed Realms were, in this manner, worlds all to themselves.

In the Void, however, there was nothing. It was Nowhere and Nowhen, Time did not affect this place for it belonged to Death only.

There was nothing to feel, nothing to see, hear, touch, smell or taste. The directions up, down, etc meant nothing and Thanatos was rather proud of it. The Void was always hungering, ready to consume everything and was the closest thing to a pet Thanatos had ever had in her mortal and unmortal life.

She didn't need to clean up after it (it was, after all, nothing) but she kept it occupied, restrained, healthy in a manner of speaking and would often talk to it. Palquenta often blamed it for Thana's "oddness" (You're just as far gone as Insanity but at least he has an excuse!) but no one could deny that it responded to Death's Incarnate.

Now it responded to someone who didn't even know it "existed."

_So it worked…_

**Interesting.**

Thana grinned in triumph from her position on a windowsill, open window showing a black night sky sparkling with stars behind her.

* * *

Harry was viciously tearing into his breakfast, glaring around the table. Zabini was looking far too smug and even though the left side of his face was threatening to turn into a bruise, Malfoy was as well. Crabbe and Goyle were too busy stuffing their faces to acknowledge being glared at but Nott had snorted into his cereal one too many times trying to stifle his laughter and had to visit Pomfrey.

They were all bastards.

"I hate you all." Harry told them, mentally cursing himself for latching onto their "friendly" faces after the Sorting. "Is there a reason why I got ice cold water dumped on me!?"

Malfoy sniffed haughtily. "You didn't get up when I called you, Potter." Harry stabbed his breakfast sausage with a fork.

"What am I, a dog?" The fork paused as the black haired boy smiled slyly. "Are you shwure you don't need anyfwing for your boo boo, wittle Malfwoy?" he said in babying tones. "I didn't mean to make you cwy!"

The blond flushed angrily as Zabini snickered. "Shut up! You just…you just caught me off guard, that's all!" he almost shouted. "Flailing around like some kind of animal…"

Harry shrugged. "I don't believe you, Malfoy." He said agreeably and then flinched when his scar throbbed. There were a few worried glances (no verbal expressions of concern, it isn't Slytherin, Daphne's voice explained in Harry's head) but he waved them off. "I'm fine, just a head-" he blinked as something white dominated his vision.

"Potter, your schedule." It was one of the older students, Marcus Flint who began to wave the piece of paper when Harry just stared at it blankly. "Scarhead" snatched it away, grumbling and glanced over it. He had history first with Binns, then double Herbology with Sprout and Potions with their Head of House right after lunch. Defense Against the Dark Arts was the last class of the day.

_What a long and utterly pointless name for a class,_ Harry mused before flinging an apple slice at Goyle but he quickly stopped when his head began to ache once more. _And I feel horrible._ He stood up.

"Pomfrey's," he said curtly and left the Hall.

Alone in the hallways, Harry had some time to think on what he had just left.

The Sorting didn't exactly surprise him; he had heard the song the hat sung and it fit. Cunning was what he needed in order to continually run circles around his relatives, not that it was difficult but because he had to. As for ambition…

* * *

_A memory..._

"_Are you going to stay?" the small, underfed and heavily bruised boy asked the apparition outside of the window, hoping that maybe someone cared._

_It gave him a cold look._

"_Impress me."_

* * *

Ok, for that he had no idea where it came from but it wasn't as if it was impossible. Many people had an ambition; wanting something wasn't new. It had probably something to do with getting away from the Dursleys. Why the hell did everyone look as if he had killed their grandmother? He had seen his new Head of House and the man looked as if someone had slapped the back of his head while he was sucking on a lemon. The Headmaster, cooky old man wearing fluorescent robes, had dared to look disappointed. Sure, the hat had told him that people were rooting Gryffindor but what was so bloody wrong with his house?

Deciding to just drop it until he was able to get an answer, he jogged the rest of the way to the Hospital Wing.

* * *

"We aren't going to spend the rest of the year learning about the Goblin Rebellion, are we?" Parkinson whined as she stumbled along on half-asleep legs.

Harry snorted. "I think we might be learning it until we graduate." History was officially a snore-fest. It had been interesting to see a ghost as a teacher but five minutes into class and the Boy-Who-Lived was beginning to believe that story about Binns boring himself to death. His voice never changed pitch and the material they were going over was impossible…No one could stay awake.

By the time they reached the smallest greenhouse, Harry realized that there was something about the Slytherin/Gryffindor relationship he was missing. All the way, even if they didn't do anything, Malfoy and the others got fearful and hateful looks that looked uglier than usual on the faces of 11 year olds. Harry himself got a few betrayed ones for reasons he could only chalk up to his scar.

He was famous and everyone thought they knew him.

This year was going to be a pain.

Professor Pomona Sprout was a decent teacher, keeping the Gryffindors and Slytherins far apart and going over the syllabus for the class for the whole time, answering all questions. Most of those questions coming from the irritating girl on the train Hermione Granger. All of the Slytherins and the vast majority of the Gryffindors were content to let her take up the teacher's time, even if they mocked her behind her back for it. Harry wanted to feel sorry but couldn't do it. She didn't matter to him.

Sprout assigned them a small 3 inch essay about their favorite magical plant before letting them go. The whole thing about "inches" for homework measurements instead of "words," "pages" or even "centimeters" like the rest of England confused him a bit but he shrugged it off.

Wizards were barmy, he knew that. Not quite up to par with reality. _Then again, with Thana around I can never be sure of _my_ sanity._

Potions was interesting.

Professor Severus Snape had swept into the room like some kind of giant bat, looking dangerous and then slightly constipated when he caught sight of Harry sitting next to Zabini. "You are here to learn the subtle art of potions," he started, voice soft enough to be deadly. "There is no foolish wand waving in _my_ class and I can only hope that all of you _dunderheads_ could create a simple potion without killing yourselves." He paused. "I hope in vain." With a dramatic flourish, he whipped out a scroll and began to call names.

"Ah, Mr. Potter…our very own _celebrity._" Harry narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Snape's eyes narrowed as well but eventually he turned away and continued.

Zabini jabbed him with an elbow. "What'd you do?"

"Nothing!" Harry hissed back and was surprised when the olive skinned boy flinched. "What now?" But he didn't get an answer.

Defense was even worse than History.

Harry couldn't even concentrate enough to register anything Professor Quirinus Quirrel was saying, for all he knew, the turban wearing man was silent for the entire lesson. His head was killing him, despite the potion he got from Pomfrey and he was getting flashes of something…dark trees, some kind of horse bleeding on the ground, a sibilant rasp…something dark…very dark…

* * *

_"Potter!"_

* * *

The next thing Harry knew, he was waking up to a white ceiling, glasses dangling on his nose and the nauseating smell of potions.

"Oh!" Someone exclaimed just beyond his line of sight and he had a feeling it was Pomfrey. "You're awake! I'll have you know, Mr. Potter, that you gave us all a right scare!" He was hauled up from his comfortable position and handed a thick blue potion despite his glare. "Collapsing in class like that, why, Quirinus nearly fainted himself!" She made as if to leave but noticed that he wasn't doing anything with the cup in his hand. There was a mini-staring contest for several seconds. "You aren't leaving until you drink that," she said blandly.

His glare intensified but he gagged down the stuff. It tasted thicker than it looked, coating his tongue and tasted absolutely awful. The medi-witch bustled out of the room, huffing under her breath about unruly patients.

"Aw, wittle Potter fwainted!" Harry blinked and Thana was there, lounging at the end of the bed with a wicked grin. "Shouldn't you be Mrs. Potter now?"

The boy bristled, feeling the hair on his neck rise like hackles. "Where were you?" he ground out, deciding not to mention that weird dream.

Her face immediately became guarded. "Here and there," she said dismissively. "Followed you around for a bit."

"How come I didn't see you?"

"I can make myself visible to whoever I choose, boy." That stung a bit. This whole time he had been waiting hopefully for her commentary so History wasn't so boring, encouragement when Snape was literally breathing down his neck...and she chose not to let him know she was there. "I didn't feel like dealing with you." That hurt more but he plastered a bright smile on his face.

She was in, what he called That Mood. Thana had a caustic, blunt attitude with biting words and a morbid sense of humour. She didn't seem like the person to hide what she thought of anyone or any situation, sometimes saying hurtful things to remind him whenever he got clingy that she was far above him. He was just Harry, but Thana was definitely something else. A lot of her rubbed off on him; he could be a right bastard when he wanted to. But it was odd how one day he felt like strangling her and the next he was so glad she was there, so glad she cared, that it hurt. Thana once called him bipolar, but he believed that _she_ was the one who was bipolar and he was just trying to keep up.

"Are you going to stay?" He asked finally. Even if she stomped all over his feelings, she was his first friend.

Thana gave him a cool look in return, blue eyes glinting with some emotion he couldn't place.

"We'll see."

* * *

Sorry for the delay guys! Work bit me in the ass but anyway hope you liked it.

A/N:Harry's scar will work differently, after all, it wasn't quite Fate that saved him that night. Is he reacting to Voldemort, or something else?


	7. Figments of Imagination

_**I encourage reviews of any type.  
**_**Disclaimer: You know, I just realized that I never did this? Harry Potter and co. belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"The first order of business was an intensive study of the magical core and its interaction with a Dementor. We have accepted the fact that a Dementor's Kiss leaves behind a soulless shell, but we don't actually know if it is the soul it steals, the mind it breaks or something else entirely. For all we know, the very secrets of the universe may be locked up inside the origins of these beasts, but it might take a while to find them. They aren't the easiest creatures to study up close for obvious reasons…" – Thaddeus Burwright, Unspeakable Traitor 1893_

* * *

Harry's first encounter with yet another secret that Thana had been keeping happened about six minutes after Charms.

Professor Filius Flitwick was the shortest person he had ever seen in his life, too short to see over his podium without several large books underneath him. There were some snickers in the class about him being a half-breed for reasons Harry didn't quite get.

The Wingardium Leviosa charm was a complete bust. With the headache Harry was already labeling as "chronic" he couldn't concentrate enough to actually get the incantation to work. It levitated once but then the feather spontaneously combusted, leaving behind a small pile of ashes on his desk. How a charm meant to float something ended up _burning_ it made no sense but it was magic. It didn't have to make sense apparently.

Hermione was the first one to get it and Harry wasn't surprised, maybe even a bit annoyed.

Flitwick falling off his books when he called "Potter, Harry," might have had something to do with the Boy-Who-Bleeding-Lived's bad mood.

Harry was trotting along, fully intending to go back to his dorm and grab something to eat. It was Wednesday and according to the menu that appeared in every dorm room that morning, it was going to be kidney pie for lunch. He much preferred Dweni pie (and he still didn't know what was in it) than anything on the table at Hogwarts. Too bad he had to ration them.

He reached the staircase down to the first floor when there was a flash of movement out the corner of his eye. He turned his head towards it and his foot promptly missed a step.

Down Harry went.

He felt every single bleeding step on the way and several cracks (and following stabs of pain) told him that he broke a few bones. He landed at the bottom in a heap, glasses flying off and books sprawled all over.

"Mr. P-potter!" It was Quirrel, who immediately rushed to help him.

Groaning, Harry waved off the teacher's hands and began to pat around for his glasses, eyes closed. A second later he opened them in exasperation, realizing he couldn't possibly hope to find them while seeing nothing. He still didn't know where that habit came from.

But then…

The world…was different. What was once an empty hall was now infested with little creatures, some looking like spiders, others resembling puff balls but the fact was _they weren't there before._ It went from the dank darkness of a castle to the strangeness and warmth of a magical zoo. He fought the urge to stare around in awe.

"Mr. P-p-potter?" His eyes turned towards Quirrel, who was holding his books and handing him his glasses. "I f-found the-them." Harry could see through his turban. And there was a face on the other side, etched in black.

He reached out and took his glasses cautiously, trying not to stare. "Thanks, professor." He slipped his glasses back on and everything was back to normal. No mystery animals. After receiving his books, he stood there awkwardly as the man waved goodbye and walked swiftly away.

_What the bloody hell?_

"It's a quorxat," said Thana's voice from behind him.

Harry spun around, looking gob smacked. "A what?"

The woman rolled her eyes and gave him a one armed shrug. "A quorxat. Everyone knows that they hide away in people's heads and make them stutter," she explained patiently as if he was stupid.

"Everyone huh?" Harry deadpanned, his left eye beginning to tick in annoyance at her blasé attitude. "Then why did _I_ not know it?" _And I have never heard of anyone mentioning quorxats in reference to Quirrel either._

Thana smiled unapologetically. "Well, everyone who knows Insanity is aware of them. It takes a special gift of True Sight to see these kinds of things." His mind flashed back.

* * *

_Before long you should be able to see things as they truly are._

* * *

"Did it ever occur to you to just _ask_ if I wanted to see this stuff!" Harry cried out. He imagined steam pouring out of his ears. His head was hurting constantly; he just fell down the damn stairs and discovered that he had been tampered with. Not even the fact that she healed his bones would fully abate his irritation. Not only was he talking to someone no one else could hear unless she felt like it, but now he was able to see things that weren't there too!

"It's not up to you to decide." Thana said coldly before a cocky grin replaced the stone look. "Besides, you never know when you might need it. Quirrel has a quorxat, where did he get it from?" The smile grew. "What does it want?"

"You aren't making any sense!" This was not Harry's day.

"I'm making perfect sense," she informed him and vanished from sight although her voice remained. "It's _you_ who doesn't want to understand."

When Greengrass stumbled upon him, Harry was standing in the hall at the bottom of the stairs, glaring at nothing.

* * *

Harry was still in a foul mood when Greengrass shoved him into a chair in the Slytherin Commons.

"What are you guys up to now?" he almost whined as Malfoy, Nott and Avery circled him like a pack of wolves. Zabini was pretending to read a book (it was upside down) and the girls Bulstrode, Parkinson, Greengrass and Davis were milling around but staying close by.

Nott grinned sharply, his wire black hair and thin face giving him the appearance of a fox. "It's Slytherin 101 Potter."

Harry stared at them blankly. "Pardon?"

"You were raised by _muggles,_" Malfoy spat out the last word. "You are doing well fitting in this house but you are still missing some fundamentals."

"Like why we hate Gryffindors?" Harry asked sarcastically and was surprised when everyone's face twisted with disgust.

"More like, why they hate us," Parkinson offered and Malfoy nodded imperiously.

"Exactly, it's high time you learned how things are going to work around here as well as how to act like a pureblood." Harry scowled but he was ignored. "Father says that if you marry right, your children will be first generation pure so we ought to teach you what everyone else knows."

"You're the last Potter, it's expected of you." Avery said dully and there were nods all around.

Harry slumped in his chair. How to act like a git or a ponce 101? He would pass with flying colours, courtesy of Thana, but the pureblood thing had him slightly worried.

_Bugger._

* * *

The Slytherin Potter was understandably excited when it came time for their flying class. Unlike any other the other classes, turning matchsticks into needles in Transfiguration, reading tea leaves in Divination, etc, this was a practical one. Actually learning something immediately useful.

Plus, it was _flying_ for Pete's sake!

Harry was a bit concerned about the fact that they would be on brooms but didn't let it stop him. The only bad part was that they were with the Gryffindors and around the lions his house mates (he couldn't really call them friends just yet, acquaintances maybe) were very distant.

"Stick your hand over your brooms and say 'up'!" Professor Amanda Hooch dictated, standing in front of the line of First Years. Her hair was in a bun like McGonnagall's but her eyes were a bird-like yellow that was slightly creepy.

Harry's broom immediately shot up after the command. Malfoy and Zabini's did the same. Many of the others floated up on their own sweet time or rolled over on the ground. One of the Gryffindor's, some kid he heard being called Longbottom, broom didn't move at all, earning snickers. He had to pick it up.

"Now mount your broom and when I give the mark, lift five feet off the ground slowly. Kick off softly to ascend. On your mark…" Harry boggled slightly. Those were not very good instructions at all…how do you control where the broom goes? What happens if you kick off too hard? What-

There was a shout and Harry mentally answered his second question. Longbottom took off, climbing steeply into the air with a bucking broom. Eventually he lost hold of it and seemed to hang in the air. Harry quickly looked around and spotted Thana watching with a bored look on her face behind Hooch.

His eyes widened in horror.

Pale blue eyes caught his green ones and winked. Longbottom crashed into the ground with a sharp crack and began to groan. Hooch rushed over in a panic.

"Broken arm and collar bone, everyone! I am going to take him to Pomfrey, do NOT fly on your own or I'll see to it that you are expelled!" Harry winced. There goes that plan. He settled in to just sit there and wait when Thana began to approach the area where the boy had fallen. She bent over and picked something red up, an orb of some kind and began to toss it up and down with a devilish grin on her face.

"Wonder what this is?" she said and Harry knew that he was the only one who could hear her. Everyone else seemed strangely preoccupied, laughing at the boy's misfortune. "Think he'll miss it?" _She wouldn't…_

"Potter!" Malfoy barked suddenly. "What are you staring at?" The orb disappeared into her sleeve. _She would._

"I'm haunted." Harry said lamely, watching the thief wave at him. "So if weird stuff happens, that's it." He knew he was getting strange looks but couldn't bring himself to care. Thana wanted him to chase her but Harry had a cooler head than that, besides, Longbottom kind of brought it on himself. Getting expelled was not worth it. Neither was suffering a "painful death" on the third floor. Even if he survived death before, Harry didn't like the thought of taking risks just because. His life hinged on the whim of a very fickle person. If Thana didn't feel like it, he would die and he'd rather not rely on Palquenta anymore than he had to.

Harry grimaced. _And to think, before my Hogwarts letter I didn't believe I could dislike someone even more than I do the Dursleys._

Madam Hooch soon returned and lessons continued.

* * *

Voices awoke him.

"He can't remain connected to it for long. It will devour him." It was male but that was all Harry knew for sure. He couldn't concentrate on any other detail besides that one.

"He's doing fine." That was Thana and she sounded a bit irritated. He groaned a little and attempted to move. The bed sheets were wrapped around him like a cocoon, pinning his arms to his sides. His face was in the pillow, making it hard to breathe.

"Mortals aren't meant to carry this burden, Death." Harry's eyes snapped open. The third voice was female and he knew it from somewhere. But who did he know that would call Thana Death?

"Mmana?" he mumbled, trying to draw attention to his trapped self. "Melp?"

There was a moment of silence.

**Impress me.** Something rasped, echoing in the room with a thousand voices. It ringed in his ears and vibrated through his body, sending twinges of primal fear up his spine. The words triggered something in Harry's memory…

He knew nothing more.

* * *

Whew, I'm on a roll! Next chapter will probably be Halloween, how will this Harry deal with a troll? Will he even try? Reviews are welcomed!

A/N: And I am not on a roll...thank you Gertrud and Smackskiller for pointing out that I had the wrong class in the beginning. I do not know what I was thinking, but whatever it was, it wasn't right.


	8. To Give Life

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"I can show you how a god flies, in agony with broken and clipped wings. The sky is our domain but freedom is not ours to taste. We can go far but in the end do so little. Puppets with strings but without masters, do you understand? You can't have both worlds, I must make you choose one. Will you hate me afterwards?" - The Weaver_

* * *

Halloween was some kind of reoccuring turning point in life for Harry.

After two months, he was alive and relatively sane which; ironically, he owed both of those points to Thana. It had taken him surprisingly little time after that first flying lesson to convince people that yes, Harry Potter is being haunted by this strange ghost.

Unlike the ghosts of the castle, no one could see…it (he had learned from the Dursleys that attaching a gender was just asking for trouble) but at random times Harry would be hit upside the head with no one there, get a face full of ink from a floating inkwell, be stabbed with his own quill, tripped where he shouldn't have, etc, etc. Harry was careful not to curse Thana out loud but he knew that it was only a matter of time before he slipped.

He wanted to hex her but she did keep the sheer monotony of certain classes (History) away, even if she chose a distracting way to do it. She must still have been annoyed about the remembrall thing.

The boy didn't know exactly what he did, but he made her give it back to Longbottom. And since then, she was a living nightmare.

Even the professors were getting a bit wary of the walking disaster being in class but Harry was too content to really care today.

Halloween was the special mark on his calendar that read 'I'm Alive!' even though he knew, he _knew_ that his parents died on this day, the worst day of his life and it was also the day on which Thana got him out of the cupboard, the best day at the same time.

October 31st was the day of the dead and Harry wasn't surprised by his connection to it at all.

"You know," Harry said darkly. "You're making it very easy to consider hating you." Thana lounged around on his bed, looking like the perfect picture of boredom and apathy. She had thrown his textbooks and homework around in order to make the bed more "comfortable" and was refusing to move.

There was no one else in the dorms on the excuse of giving Potter some "alone time." Even though they wouldn't admit it, Harry had a presence to him that made them fear getting him angrier. He wasn't in a particularly bad mood but his actions weren't helping that image. Today was Halloween and with the good and bad things that happened to him on it, he wasn't sure how to regard the holiday, opting to simply snap at people until he found out.

Thana rolled onto her side lazily. "Can you whine any louder?" she asked dismissively and Harry's eyes narrowed. He had a headache, he had DADA homework that was due, potions essay that was unfinished and he was hungry. Thana couldn't seem to stop pushing him.

"You-!" his mouth closed and then opened again, cheeks flaming with indignation. "What is wrong with you!? Are you still mad I made you give it back, huh!? Grow up!" He flailed his arms. "You've been bugging me for _months,_ if I had known you would do this I'd have found some way to leave your arse behind!"

"Potter?" The boy froze and slowly turned his head towards the door where Malfoy was standing there with a slightly scared expression. "Who are you talking to?"

"I…" Harry suddenly realized what he must look like. Hair sticking up in all directions from when Thana ruffled it, eyes wild, arms in the air –he put them down slowly- and yelling at the top of his lungs to an empty bed. It just occurred to him that maybe they left him in the dorm room because they were suspicious of his mental stability. Hell, even he almost thought he was crazy.

He sighed in defeat, ignoring Thana's wide grin. "I'm…talking to nobody, Malfoy. Don't mind me…"

The blond nodded woodenly. "Well…if you want…you can join us for the feast? Or just…stay away…"

Harry straightened himself up to some semblance of normalcy. "I'll come."

And it was settled. He didn't like Halloweens.

* * *

"Don't eat the yellow candies." Harry muttered out the corner of his mouth, eyes firmly on a pair of twins at the Gryffindor table.

"Why?" Greengrass asked curiously but she put them back. It was an interesting show of where the power lay. Malfoy might have the pureblood status but they stopped doubting what Harry said, leaving the black haired boy with the real power, even if he didn't realise it yet.

"Twins have pranked it." On cue, Goyle began to shrink until all that was left in his robes was a small yellow bird. Harry smiled thinly. Some people seem to have taken it as a personal affront to have the Boy-Who-Lived a snake (the red heads trying particularly hard were the ones that came to mind) or perhaps they just did this to Slytherins every year.

The Great Hall door banged open.

"Troll in the dungeons!" Quirrel yelled and the Great Hall became dead silent. "Just thought you should know." As the teacher collapsed, the Slytherins gave each other disbelieving looks. Impossible. Hogwarts was the second most secure place on earth; there is no way that a stupid _troll_ could get in.

Apparently the Headmaster didn't think so. Concussive blasts of noise was sent up in the growing chaos and he gave his orders," Prefects! Lead the others down to the Common Rooms, no one is to leave until this threat is dealt with!" The aging wizard cut a refined figure despite wearing lime green and he gave Harry this unreadable look before heading off. Like he was asking Harry to be impressed.

The Slytherin just snorted and ran off to stop Elias from doing something stupid. "There is a troll in the dungeons, you know." He spoke out bitingly and was not surprised by the amount of glares he got.

"We know that Potter! And Dumbeldore gave us orders!" The Prefect barked back, pulling his lips back in a feral snarl.

"Exactly. I think he's senile." Harry smiled mockingly. "Tell me, where are the Slytherin Commons? In the _dungeons,_ perhaps?" The whole house paled as one. "Don't tell me you all ran off not even thinking, acting like a bunch of _Gryffindors._" It was far too easy to channel his Slytherin sometimes; he just had to think of how Thana acted and the rest took care of itself. "Hufflepuff is the closest. Go there, bully 'em if you have to but running to certain death is bound to be less pleasant than the duffers, agreed?"

Pah, he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Somehow the arrogant git had rubbed off on him.

Harry made as if to about face with the rest of them but a rather strong grip on his shoulder prevented that.

"Come with me, will you?" Thana murmured and Harry looked longingly at his retreating house mates before sighing.

"What now?" The next thing he knew, he was standing in a hallway, highly disoriented. "Bloody hell! Warn me next time! I'm gonna be sick..."

"Non-existence is quite sturdy compared to an ever fragile existence." Death's Incarnate spoke, still in soft tones as Harry looked at her. "Have you ever witnessed such delicacy...breaking?" For a second, Harry could swear her eyes turned gold...

There was a bloodcurdling scream from down the hall and Harry's head snapped towards it. The girl's bathroom. Something was crashing around inside. The troll. _Damn, so it wasn't in the dungeons..._

"Someone's gonna diiiiieeee," Thana sing-songed happily. "That's too bad!" The boy wanted to move but his feet were holding up protest signs in full strike. His knees locked up, leaving him shaking as another scream rang out.

There was a crash and the sound abruptly choked off. A primal roar of triumph.

The humour bled out of Thana's face. "Someone's dead."

_Dead...dead...dead...dead...dead, dead, dead, dead, deaddeaddeaddeaddead..._The word wouldn't leave his mind. That was...there was a student in there! Someone he probably knew! And he had...he had just stood there...what kind of person was he!?

Thana's hand lifted as the troll stomped out of the bathroom. Once it faced the other way, Harry dashed forwards dow the hall and skidded to a stop inside the bathroom. The place looked like a twister hit it.

The toilet stalls were cracked and splintered, one of the sinks was smashed in half and paper towels were everywhere. And there, in the corner, was a body.

He'd recognize that bushy brown hair anywhere, not that you can tell from looking at the face...

Harry's forgotten nausea came back full force. It was his fault. She had been alive when he first got there and he didn't do anything...didn't even move. He felt disgusted with himself as well as scared. Facing your own death was simple once it happened. Facing someone else's...

"Bring her back!" Harry cried out, not caring if the troll heard. He _knew_ this girl, she had a name, he flung dirt clods at her during Herbology, she showed him up constantly in Transfigurations, she nagged him on the train, she didn't deserve this. "Bring her back! Do it!"

"Taking life is easier than giving it," Thana responded dully but there was an amused sparkle in her eyes.

"I don't-" The troll had realised that someone had to be making the noise in the bathroom and was back to correct that error. It stood there in the half blasted doorframe with a bloodthirsty grin. Harry's face turned to stone and he pulled out his wand despite the fact that he had no spells to fight it. Time seemed to slow.

Blood rushed in his ears to the rhythm of his heart. It was cold and Harry was almost vibrating with a powerful, unfamiliar emotion.

_It killed her. It had to pay._ Harry's inner Gryffindor screamed out.

"Are you going to avenge her, boy?" She tutted at him. "You'll need to feel something else then. Righteous anger doesn't hurt for long..."

_Then what?_ he thought tightly as the troll lumbered in. He could see every sinew and muscle rippling, heard every creak of the tile, every swish of the moving club..._what do I need? It. Must. Pay!_

"Your pain." Harry's headache promptly doubled and then tripled, blurring his vision and messing with his thoughts. At some point, when he was clutching at his head in pain, he realised that blood was dripping into his eyes. Had he been hurt?

Cold hands lifted his wand arm, holly and pheonix feather held loosely. "Take it, feed it, let it grow and I'll show you how to release it. It won't be accurate but you are still young."

* * *

_A shudder rippled through nothing..._

* * *

He could almost imagine through the red, Thana's grin. An emptiness in his chest was growing, just like that dream-!

"Repeat after me..."

"_Crucio!"_ Harry hissed out. Something in him snapped.

His wand twitched and then a black beam, violently twisting and swirling shot of of it, driving the troll to its knees. It howled in pure anguish, dropping the club to claw at its face. Harry watched in detached, morbid fascination as it actually dig so deep that it ripped out an eye. Ichor poured in rivulets and it banged its head against the wall, screeching.

Thana sighed. "The glory of silencing charms," she muttered as globs of flesh came off on the wall. Its head reared back, came forward and cleanly snapped a sink off the pipes. The body slumped and shuddered once in the gushing water...then twice...

The spell died and Harry felt numb. He had killed.

Thana clapped his shoulder. "Well done, Harry, well done." _Harry..._was all he could think as a strange warmth settled in his stomach. Not boy, not Potter, not crybaby, not squirt, she actually-

That's when he remembered. "Hermione!" He staggered back over to that corner. The girl's face was smashed in, something greyish-white was dripping down the wall. Ceramic pieces of bone poked up like teeth in a soup of blood and...bile rose in his throat.

Pal didn't owe him anything. _The girl was dead._ She didn't even like him. _The girl was dead._ Thana had refused. _The girl was dead._ It was his fault.

He reached for that power again but his probe slipped; that source was not his to command so easily. Instead he found another, foreign one and without thinking grabbed and _pushed_ it into the girl's body. He imagined as hard as he could her being alive. She was a know-it-all, bossy and commanding. Moved like a miniature soldier, followed rules, muggleborn, bloody hell! She had parents! People who would miss her!

Harry felt a rumbling in his chest and heard Thana's startled, "Huh!?" before he blacked out.

* * *

"An intriguing scenario. Now you know why he was blocked to you." The Weaver remarked and managed to keep from being offended when Thana just snorted.

"Why? No, but I have a suspicion as to 'how' and it has nothing to do with you," a contemplative silence. "I used to be like him, you know, all eager to save the helpless and it never worked out. More people died because of me!" Thana's voice, which had begun to rise settled into a dead tone. "Everyone I cared for, just gone. Towns, cities, whole civilisations because of you and that damn Weave."

"You were too human, Thanatos," was the cold reply, jealousy warring with the need to be objective.

"I felt real things once," Death's Incarnate said wistfully. "Existence meant so much more then."

"You were flawed."

Another snort. "Perfection is boring."

"You were useless."

"And now I'm making the boy useful." Thana tilted her head to the right with a playful grin. "How come you won't let me do anything productive, Fate?"

_The boy's life would have been much worse up to now without you._ The dulcet tones of Fate sung, pushing aside petty emotions.

"And we know, that has its price. You didn't answer the question, but we'll let it slide. Next one: Why do I get to build him up, if to get what I want, I have to tear him down?"

_Do you feel guilty, for attempting to corrupt his soul?_

"Strike two! Should I?"

_Will you still destory him, when this plan fails?_

"Strike three, you are no fun at all Fate." Despite her teasing words, Thana gave the Incarnation of Fate a multi-faceted look. It held self-loathing, self-justification, anger, sadness, determination, a wicked glint of malice in the many topaz faces of her eyes and something older than Time itself:

Death.

The answer was yes.

* * *

"Oh! You really didn't have to do this for me Harry." Shrugging, the last Potter placed the bouquet of roses and daises (begged off of Sprout who kept muggle plants as well) in a vase he transfigured.

"It's no problem at all, Hermione." He sat in a chair near the end of the bed. "You probably don't get many visitors." It actually was a problem since he couldn't stop himself from doing it in the first place. He had originally intended to just leave the girl to recover on her own but some sort of twisted paternal instincts changed the plans.

Harry hadn't really known Hermione. She was a girl in his class that he refused to leave dead and as a result, things changed.

Her hair was no longer bushy but more frizzy, already showing hints of developing into ringlets. Small imprefections that were beneath his notice were simply removed, like her overly large front teeth and while her core personality remained the same, the little things like favorite colour and food that filled in the gaps had been altered.

Her parents would have their daughter come Christmas but he had essentially created something new. _What_ he did exactly was still beyond his reach so he opted to forget about it.

He shifted uncomfortably. "How long are you going to be in here?"

Hermione huffed. "At least three weeks. My magical core was drained completely and without it, potions won't work. I'll be missing so much classwork..." she began to fret before fixing him with a small smile. "Thanks for saving me, Harry." She then grew stern leaving Harry to wonder just how many mood swings the original had. "But you could have been killed! Why didn't you get a professor!"

Accidental magic was the cover story and the bleeding cut on his head only served as proof. Harry had levitated the club and dropped it on the troll's head...who then went berserk. Was it Harry's doing or some evil mastermind? No one knew and with Snape's insistence, the wand was checked and nothing appeared.

"Not enough time, but I'm not worried about dying." Harry said thoughtlessly.

"And why not!?"

Harry fished for an excuse while cursing his mouth. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, right? A hero and heros don't die without their happy ending." He managed to say it with conviction but Hermione cut him down.

"Say that to Romeo, Hamlet." She sighed. "Just...go for help next time?"

Harry was stunned. _She's expecting me to pull her behind out of shit already!?_ "I'll try not to act like a Gryffindor," he smiled as she playfully hit him.

"Cur!"

* * *

"Ugh!" Harry collapsed onto his bed, somehow unable to believe that classes were going as normal when someone had _died_ in the school. Sure, he was the only one could tell but he expected something more...a sense of broken security...but everyone went right back to believing it was the "safest place on earth." "Thana, if I ever decide to act like a Gryffindor again, slap me," he joked, expecting Thana to poke fun at him.

The dark haired woman turned to look at him, blue eyes on green, but then turned away, saying nothing.

Harry suddenly felt very alone.

* * *

Sorry for the delay, slightly longer chappie this one is. Review!


	9. To Have Erised

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"True necromancers are the rarest type of wizard, even the full metamorphmagus is found far more often. There are ways to fake it, of course, magic has its loopholes but the most one can do without the talent is reanimate dead flesh, an Inferi. To bring the soul back to an unharmed body, to truly live, hope and dream after death is what a true necromancer is capable of. But it is also a cursed existence for it encroaches on the Purpose of several Incarnates. For this our punishment is severe; we do not steal life, we give it." – Marcine Walker 1768 – 1804_

* * *

For the longest time, Harry Potter could solemnly swear that he had imprinted on Thana.

When he first met her, he was starved for affection, had a depressingly low self-esteem and no one to look up to for security. She gave off the air of being a rebel, irresponsible and crude, but in spite of himself, Harry began to imitate her.

Thana had a rolling gait born from spending millennia in a place where the ground moved, with a predator grace that went well with her trademark smirk. She could be quite loud and impulsive and her language was crude. She had peculiar quirks that made figuring out her mood easy and she passed all that and more onto the boy.

Harry didn't know when he started swearing but once started, he couldn't stop. He used to get mad at the drop of a hat but years later it took far longer to simmer before erupting. He rolled his shoulders when he walked now, tilted his head when confused or thoughtful and scratched the back of his neck when embarrassed. What she found funny, he did as well. Foods she liked, Harry liked them too. People she hated, so did he (Palquenta was a very good example of this) and so on. There was even a short period of time before Hogwarts that Harry was able to complete her sentences until she got annoyed with him.

But now she wasn't speaking to him at all and Harry was alone again. It didn't matter how big the Great Hall was, what they were learning in class or how many people were in the Slytherin Commons, it reminded him painfully of the days before Thana. Of his cupboard.

And Harry would rather die than live his entire life in that silence.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was both glad and worried as he sat in his office about one Harry J. Potter.

The crux of the matter was this: It was getting rather difficult to convince himself that Harry wasn't dark.

The boy seemed to be having the life he should but when the Hat had Sorted him into Slytherin, he very nearly had a heart attack. Severus, strangely, was no help at all in keeping an eye on Mr. Potter and Dumbledore had watched with a heavy heart as Harry began to adopt the same mannerisms and speech patterns as his house mates. He held out the hope that he wouldn't develop the same prejudices but the boy was so…distant that it was hard to tell.

It was if Harry was in the school all by himself with the professors sometimes, treating everyone as a necessary burden. He had been associating with that Gryffindor muggleborn girl, which stirred some hope, but that was it. And it wasn't enough.

On Halloween, Hogwarts had lost one of her students. As Headmaster, he was privy to the wards around the castle and he knew that something had gone terribly wrong. The where had been unknown to him but he most definitely felt it when Hermione Granger had died. And yet she had been recently released from the care of Poppy, perfectly fine.

It was a mystery and he knew Harry had something to do with it, being Ms. Granger's only visitor.

But the Boy-Who-Lived a true necromancer?

What other dark surprises await?

* * *

In the Great Hall, Harry was picking at his food when the owl post arrived. Thana was there, he could almost feel her, but she had yet to say anything. Sometimes her face would shift through emotions, as if she was having a conversation in her head, but he could never identify what she was feeling and would just feel sadder because of it.

"So, you going anywhere for Christmas, Potter?" Parkinson asked hesitantly, trying to start up a conversation. Three weeks ago, the Slytherin table had finally realized that Harry didn't get letters from anyone. Styx, a beautiful snowy owl, always came down for bacon but never had anything to deliver. It didn't bother him then, but it did now.

"I…" he opened his mouth and then shut it with a _click_ when a voice spoke behind him.

"You're coming with me for Christmas, boy." Thana mumbled and he almost turned to stare.

"I'll be with a…distant cousin…from my father's side of the family." Harry lied and let out a sigh of relief when Parkinson seemed to swallow it.

"That's great!" Everyone knew about Harry's _horrible muggle relatives_ by now. "You know, I think you're even related to Draco through your father, you'll have to ask him to be sure."

The scarred boy smiled weakly and steered the conversation off of him. "Where are you going?"

The black haired girl with a squashed looking nose flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Visiting my cousin who is attending Durmstrang, you know of it?" Harry nodded as if he did. "Well, she's been accepted as an apprentice potion maker so it'll be a celebration of sorts in Russia."

Bulstrode, who had been nearby, leaned forward. "I've heard that it's very hard to be accepted over there!"

Parkinson beamed with pride that wasn't her own. "I know!" she gushed. "You should have seen how Father took the news, he was ecstatic!"

Harry let his attention drift and almost groaned as he scanned the hall. Idiotic Gryffindors at 3o' clock.

"So where are you going over hols, Potter?" the red head he had met on the train taunted. "I bet you're going with the Malfoys like the slimy git you are!"

Harry stared at him blankly. _Is it safe to assume, that he has something against blonds? He doesn't like Greengrass either. _He tilted his head absently. _Or maybe just all Slytherins? What for?_

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

The green eyed boy blinked slowly. "Yes…you are, aren't you?" Ron bristled. "I'm with family, Weasley, that's all." He glanced to the side and caught Thana's eye. "Satisfactory?"

Ron turned red and when he spoke it was in a tone the boy thought was dangerous. "Watch yourself, Potter. We all know your Dark and I will be happy to see you in Azkaban with the rest of 'em!" Harry blinked again. Now here was someone that didn't take well to being proven wrong. He watched Ron stalk off and almost frowned, wondering for the first time what others thought of him but then dismissed it. It didn't really matter, people were sheep.

* * *

"I'm telling you, I felt something from it!"

An after effect of Thana ignoring him was that Harry's grades shot up. He was no longer distracted in class and ended up spending more time than he planned with the muggleborn encyclopedia. Second best was as good as not even finishing the race to Hermione for some reason and it forced the boy's work ethic to change. "Forced" because Harry had been content with how he had been doing until the girl got it into her head that she would _make_ him do better. It was easier not to argue.

The girl still paid attention to rules but recently there was a recklessness to her behavior that was familiar and it made him loathe to hurt her.

It was also the reason why they were sneaking into a hidden room.

"You can't sense magic, Hermione, not in first year anyway," Harry whined. "I'm telling _you_ that it isn't possible!" What exactly the girl had been doing to find the room, he still had no idea.

"You'll see," the girl said haughtily. "And then you get to kiss my boots for being wrong!" And pushed the door open.

Standing on the other side of the room, was an oval mirror inlaid in gold. It had a tarp partially draped on it and strange writing on the rim._ Erised stra ehru oytub ecafr uoyt onuoy wohsi. _Harry quickly broke it down in his mind and grew puzzled. A magic mirror? He took a step closer to get a better look when he felt it.

The best he could describe it as was the feeling of ice cubes sliding along his blood vessels. The feeling started at his toes but then crawled up his legs, clawed its way through his spine where it proceeded to wreck havoc in his head. He felt like he ate ice cream way too fast while his blood rushed in his ears. Whatever it was, it was powerful and it was dark.

The mirror was an evil thing. Not in the Purpose but in the intent and it made Harry sick to look at it but look at it he did.

There was nothing but a black fog in the reflection.

"This isn't magic, not how they know it." Harry said finally, a sinking feeling in his stomach. The mirror, even though he had never seen it before, felt familiar and he knew why.

"They?"

"Wizards, the normal ones," he swallowed. "We're not normal." _Not you, not anymore. _"Hermione, promise me you won't seek this out again. It's dangerous."

The girl looked at him quizzically but didn't question him. "Okay, Harry. I won't." Something in the feeling pulsing off of the mirror reminded him of Thana and he knew the mirror had been made by someone like her. Like Pal. And Hermione could feel it.

_Shit._

* * *

Harry stood just outside of the Hogwarts propertry, flanked by most of the professors and Dumbledore. It was time to head home for Christmas and most of the students were gone already but Harry had received a note to be here instead so here he was, fidgeting. Fighting off Hermione's inquiries about the mirror these last weeks was bad, the girl didn't want to shut up about it. Thana was Harry's secret. Even if he didn't have to keep it, the thought of sharing made his stomach feel like he drank acid. Not to mention, he really didn't know why she was able to feel that mirror.

Thana had reverted back to silence.

"Ah," Dumbledore rumbled suddenly. "I believe she is here, Harry." The boy shot him a look, no one but Hermione who didn't know any better called him Harry, but he let it slide. Next time, he would get insubordinate.

The female figure walking towards them was definitely Thana, same wild black hair and arrogant lift to her chin but the only visible eye was a pale hazel. She wore robes similar to what she was always in but no longer tattered and a strange crest stiched onto her right shoulder. And in her hand, was a wand. As she approached, she tilted her head.

"Harry."

He nodded and grabbed his trunk. "Cousin?"

Her eye sparkled with mischeif as she turned to the Headmaster. "You had some concerns?"

The old man smiled with a jolly air and gestured for his staff to return to the school. "Ah yes, may I ask what measures you are taking to ensure Harry's safety?" There was a serious twinkle in those blue eyes of his and Harry was getting the feeling that he trusted Thana far less than he could throw her. He had good instincts.

The woman resembled a statue with how little she moved, posture perfect, a great difference from the usual rebellious slouch. "Hello, my name is Constanze Ergusson, Headmaster Dumbledore," she said smoothly, poking small fun at the lack of introductions. "And the manor is under a Fidelius as well as the family wards: anti-Animagus, anti-apparition, anti-portkey as well as needing explicit permission from myself to enter. Satisfactory?"

Harry subtley frowned as Dumbledore nodded hesitantly. _Thana has a manor? Or is she bull-shitting? _She turned her head as if she heard him and winked. Harry gaped. _She's bull-shitting!_

"Well, come along then Harry or would you prefer Mr. Potter? You don't know me yet after all."Thana said with a lilting tone of voice like she was seriously considering busting a gut laughing.

"Harry is fine!" Waving to the Headmaster, he fell into step beside his "cousin" but once they were out of sight, he found himself following her through the Mists. The sudden switch was disorienting but he tried to ignore it. He just hoped they weren't going to spend Christmas with Pal or he might kill someone.

"Where are we going?"

Thana turned her head, her eyes were once again a glowing blue as her lips twitched into a small smile. "Sparta."

* * *

I'm happy that this story has so many reviews, I thought it would just fade back into the background of . Feel free to ask questions, flame me or whatever. Review!


	10. Arrival at Sparta

_**I encourage reviews of any type.  
**_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"Thanatophobia: Fear of death or dead things (e.g corpses) as well as all things associated with death (e.g tombs). People with this anxiety will do whatever it takes to avoid being killed and will often have an intense obsession with reversing death or dealing with death symbolism. Failed attempts at treatment may result in psychologically clinging to the very object of fear or even denying that the fear exists. Symbols of death: basilisk, cross, sickle, scythe, thestral, dagger, grave stone, bone, silver and black blood." - Notes penned by Orion Nigellus Black_

* * *

Thanatophobia was to Thanatos a "fear of me" and Death Incarnate never ceased to find the prospect of fearing death amusing.

Thana was the most unique of the Incarnates and as a result, she changed the rest. When the Weaver first saw her, she was a small, unconventionally pretty little girl around four years old with her eyes always closed and a too large grin on her face. She was always underfoot and drove many of them up the wall with her incessant questions and impossible pranks.

It had gotten so bad that at one point the normally apathetic Weaver was _this_ close to begging Krun to throw the girl in the River already. He wouldn't do it, instead he smiled mysteriously and said, "It is not yet Time" and shooed all complaining visitors out of his Realm.

The Weave had been no help in determining what Time was and she had suspected an information leak from Always that Death was somehow privy to. If the universe wished it, the girl's presence was then necessary but no less irritating. The holder of Fate was reduced to twiddling her thumbs, waiting for the girl to finally die. So imagine her horror when, mankind took their first step towards progress, Time was created by Always and the girl she hated became Death Incarnate.

Thana always made sure to rub that in her face.

Krun had named her Thanatos, as if the tramp was his daughter, when he gave up the position. The little terror blossomed into a big one over the millennia with this hero complex that gave Fate Incarnate a headache. They clashed on several occasions in which the Weaver always won, but the look of sheer despair on Thanatos' face made the victory bitter. And then she would get angry at feeling sorry for the upstart and the cycle would begin anew.

Now that cycle of hate was broken because of Life and the boy and the Weaver was surprised to find...that it hurt.

She never could take change well.

* * *

Harry's mouth fell open as he gazed on the latest Realm. It looked more like a city but the enormous red-stone wall made it difficult to really tell. The front "door" was massive, easily topping 80' and was made out of solid wood with large brass hinges. Extending out of the wall to both sides of the door were to torsos of two muscular men, wearing bowl-like helmets and wielding spears as if they were prepared to stab right through any visitors. The ground rolling around the city was covered in a red dust and Harry's ears could just faintly hear challenging roars from the other side.

He didn't like the place already.

"So this is…Sparta?" Harry asked curiously, trying to keep disdain from his voice.

Thana blinked as if she never really thought about where she was. "Not really, no," she gestured towards the giant door. "Technically, _that's_ Sparta. And for reasons that will probably get someone _killed_ it looks like we're locked out."

Harry turned back to stare at the door, not quite believing that he had suffered through the Mists for hours just for this. "Why are we here, exactly?"

"Training." Thana said shortly as she began to inspect the wood. "Your magic control is horrible, physical balance abysmal, no real strength or endurance at all, no flexibility, you can't kick and oh," she lifted an eyebrow mockingly while flashing him a bright smile. "You hit like a girl."

Harry coloured and opened his mouth without thinking. "Oh yeah!? Well…you…you are a girl!"

Thana stopped and once again turned back to look at him, disbelief written all over her face before it became wry. "Bravo, I was afraid I'd have to drop my robes for you to notice, idiot."

This time, Harry's face began to resemble a tomato as he sputtered angrily but decided to just quit while he was ahead. Thana shook her head while placing a hand on the city entrance.

"It's not going to be fun when you hit puberty, is it?" she murmured distractedly.

"Hey!" And that's when Harry felt it. Thana's arm flexed and where his best friend had stood just a second before now…there was something else. Ice was in his veins, just like before the mirror, and as the strange power began to build Thana seemed to change.

There had always been a feeling of barely enforced obedience around the woman and this sense of _life_ that expanded her presence beyond the space she occupied. Now, she just seemed old. Tired eyes caused him to think this maybe, a dark feeling and so far beyond even the Headmaster that Harry fought the urge to kneel. It lasted a few seconds and then it was over.

"What the bloody hell was that!?"

Thana rolled her eyes upward in a strangely pious gesture; hand still on an unharmed door. "Not yet," she intoned softly. Harry opened his mouth but a sudden loud groan from the door shut it. In front of his eyes, the heavy and thick wooden planks began to sharply splinter.

Harry took a step back and the 80' door imploded towards the center of the city.

There were a few screams but they didn't last long and when the dust cleared there was nothing left of the majestic entrance way other than several tons of wood slivers. Thana strode in confidently, deliberately stepped on the head of one of the fallen and struck a pose.

"Knock knock!"

Harry sidled up behind her, clutching his trunk with white knuckles as he tried to ignore the bodies riddled with pieces of wood. "You're crazy."

She turned her head to scowl at him. "I'll have you know, that 'insane' sounds better than 'crazy' in this case."

Harry found himself once again opening his mouth, only to choke on the words as burly men armed to the teeth, to the point of using their own skin as pouches for holding knives, suddenly faded into sight. _I'm going to die here,_ Harry suddenly thought as Thana waved at them cheerily. _Going to really die. No coming back. Bloody hell._

Unable to deal with the recent turn of events, Harry's mind shut down and he pitched head forward into the dust.

Darkness.

* * *

"It has been a long time since you contacted me personally, my Goddess," a deep baritone rumbled powerfully.

Thana was seated lazily on a long couch, head tilted back enough to clearly expose her throat and eyes half closed as she stared at the ceiling. The vulnerable position wasn't to show that she was no threat, but because she knew that nothing was a threat to her. In front of the ruler of Sparta, it as a grievous offense but insulting people came as naturally to her as pretending to breathe in front of Harry did.

Death didn't need manners.

"It's been a long time since I wanted anything from you, Kring." There was a moment of silence.

"What shall I do?"

A smile quirked on her lips. "Your domain is blood, War, correct?" She could almost feel him frown, he never like her word games and puzzles. "I brought a boy who has blood all over him, protecting him." Kring frowned deeper but this time because he viewed wards as a weakness.

"Your orders?"

"It protects those that do not deserve to be spared." Thanatos closed her eyes. "Get rid of it."

Kring stood up. Wearing only the leather skirt of Spartan men, red cape and a crown of thorns he was an imposing figure, looking as if he was capable of snapping Thana in half which made his submissive attitude all the more strange. His muscles had muscles, burnt leathery skin was heavily scarred with puncture wounds, gashes and teeth marks; he looked as if he crawled through a war only to throw himself head-long into the next one.It was a drastic contrast to the spoiled way Thana carried herself.

"It will be done." He paused with an expectant air, causing Thana's eyes to open again.

"What."

"Tartarus needed not be your only Realm," he said slowly. "You could have had Sparta as queen."

Thanatos didn't move, the only sign that she heard him at all was the sudden complete lack of any emotion on her face. "I don't need nor want anything of Sparta." The _including you_ went unsaid. Kring took the silent chastisment humbly. "Why would I, when I can have Eternity?"

The crimson eyes of War Incarnate widened. "And the boy?"

"He'll be the one, to give it to me." Her trademark smirk surfaced. "He just doesn't know it yet."

* * *

When Harry awoke in a strange place with his head on the lap of some stranger and numerous weapons pointed at him, the first thing he thought was: _I'm hungry._ It wasn't a surprising thought, the last thing he had eaten had been over six hours ago and Harry was still a growing boy. It wasn't until one of the aforementioned weapons poked him did he realize what kind of situation he was in. Harry looked up and saw a face he didn't recognize, a woman with a livid scar down her cheek and a disapproving look in her eyes. He then looked around and mentally counted how many spears were aimed at him, 7, and how many swords. 5.

He summed up what he felt in one word. "Shit."

His stomach chose that time to growl and doors far to the right swung open. It was Thana, still wearing her usual tattered black robes with a too large grin on her face. "Now, now boy, just cooperate and they'll have no reason to hurt you!"

The closest neanderthal poked him with the spear again, making Harry scowl. "Why do I not believe you?" One more poke, a little harder this time, made Harry groan and pull himself into a proper sitting position. His living pillow promptly took her leave. "How come you aren't being held hostage!?" Harry was irritated; this was not how he expected his Christmas vacation to go.

Thana stared at him with amusement, something dark flashing in her eyes. "Because they wouldn't dare." She then waved a dismissing hand at the boy's guards and waited patiently until they all filed out of the room.

"What's...going to happen to me?" the green eyed boy said quietly, taking in the red stone surroundings. At any other time, he would have felt safe with his friend in the room but he could tell that something was off with her. The hair on the back of his neck had been slowly rising in alarm since she arrived and his body tingled strangely. There was a sudden surge of anger in him. _Now what the bloody hell is wrong!?_

Thana turned away and the spell was broken.

Back to normal.

"I have no idea what 'Christmas' actually is so bear with me," she said in a long-suffering tone while holding a closed fist out towards him. Harry slid off the cot, extremely puzzled.

"Um...oh!" Her hand opened and there dangling in between her fingers was a necklace. It wasn't gaudy or girly but very plain yet beautiful at the same time. A simple silver chain was attached to an obsidian pendant carved in the shape of a coiled snake. The snake head rested in the middle, poking out some as it regarded everything with tiny ruby eyes. Thana was watching his reaction to the gift closely, eyes flashing gold for a brief moment.

"You're supposed to give presents, right?" And she gave it to him with a negligent toss. "Don't lose it or I might get mad."

Harry immediately put it on and beamed. His very first present. It was very early but it didn't matter. He got a present. It was already the best Christmas ever.

The blue eyes of Thana were still on him, unreadable and her face carefully blank as Harry twisted and turned, admiring the necklace. "Come on," she interrupted. "Aren't you hungry?"

On cue, his stomach growled again loudly. Flushing, Harry marched out of the room and down the hall...and then came back, looking even more frustrated at the sight of Thana's barely concealed grin.

"Yeah. yeah...where is it?"

* * *

**He can sense me.** Death intoned within her mind, radiating pulses of power.

Thana nodded, thinking as the black-haired boy darted back in forth in front of her, taking in the sights. _He can. We must not allow him to lose faith in us. What shall we do? It is too early to break him._

**We Wait.**

_This body is going to be an issue. This 'Thana' of his feels more than she should._

**Enough to stop us, it will not.**

_It won't._

New Incarnate met:

Incarnate of War: Kring was a barbarian during the time of Greece's dominance when approached with the offer of immortality. As War, he submits to Death and his Realm is called Sparta. It's a city filled with unrecycled souls taken by War with the permission of Death. Artifacts: Crown of Thorns, the Golden Chariot, Fountain of Blood

A/N: Ok, who of you thinks Thana's a bitch and doesn't deserve anything to do with Harry? Who thinks the opposite? It's a love/hate relationship with my character at the moment and my muse is not helping.

Anyway, review!

* * *


	11. A True Necromancer

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"Of all the people to have such a great power at their fingertips, it had to be the one least likely to use it! The Weave is cruel to deny me such but placed it right in front of my nose. That fool of a woman knows not what her blood and magic can do; I suspect that she would even refuse to find out. Everything she touches has potential, Godric that bastard! There is no need to fear the taint of her magic! The spells that could be created, the rituals, the possibilities! I can only hope that in the future, one of my own can weild the same gift and use it to its fullest." - Memoirs of Salazar Agracius Slytherin in regards to Helga Sarah Hufflepuff_

* * *

Harry had been a bit intimidated by supper and breakfast was no different.

The room they were to eat in was massive and very open since there were no solid walls but instead pillars to hold up the roof. The table was in a vaguely rectangular shape but had rounded edges and lay squat. Harry had to sit on a cushion to eat and his small build, young age and the fact that no one but the ruler of Sparta and Thana ate with him made him feel very insignificant.

It wasn't a nice feeling but he grinned and bore it. Besides, he was getting fed at the same time.

As he stuffed a blood pastry in his mouth (he tried not to think about the name) an escort marched into the dining hall; there were four guards forming a square around a man Harry was a bit hesitant to call old. He had wrinkles, sure, but the way his eyes reminded him of a hawk and quick movements led the boy to believe that it was either a young old man or an old young man. Thana was a bit too far away at the head of the table and, not to mention, barely paying any attention so he couldn't really ask her which was it.

"My Lord," the man in question rasped as he knelt on the floor along with the guards, right fist slamming into the ground. "I have come as requested."

The huge man that Thana called 'Kring' inclined his head in response. "You are to teach the boy how to control his ability to raise the dead." Harry suddenly found himself without air as he choked on his pastry. He thumped his chest hard, blushing something fierce as he coughed out a half digested red biscuit.

He took a few deep breaths to center himself. "Ok...What!?"

His new teacher merely punched the ground again. "It shall be done." Harry opened his mouth to protest but a sudden thought stopped him in his tracks. _Can I bring back my parents?_ He began to get a heady feeling as he stood up from the table, unaware of Thana's calculating blue eyed gaze. _If I learn, can I really do that?_ He jumped as a callous hand gripped his shoulder tightly, wondering how he got over there before he was pushed along outside.

If Harry were to describe the city of Sparta in one word it would be: red. Red stone made up everything, red dust swirled underfoot, the people had the reddish tan of burnt skin and wore red toga like things. The sky was red, the grass was stiff, brittle, the colour of dried blood and it _felt_ red. It felt savage, angry, wounded and fierce, at times it was almost like a ghost town in which invisible people all around were tearing into each other. That's what Sparta felt like to Harry and _red_ was the only way he could put it.

His teacher steered him towards an example of that red.

Two young men, three or four years older than him were circling around each other on the balls of their feet, showing teeth. On some unseen signal, they leapt. At first it was punches, kicks and the occasional head butt, the short powerful blows making Harry a bit uncomfortable but when he tried to look away, the grip on his shoulder tightened, so he watched. They hit with their knuckles, maximising damage and uncaring of their own hands. They hit anything in reach. One of them, slightly bigger with longer arms, managed to get a hold on the other's toga and the fight degenerated. Punches became clawing, kicks became brutal knee jabs and foot grinding, and the headbutts became bites. They didn't stop at first blood but they did when one made a fatal mistake.

The larger one shifted his foot wrong and overbalanced himself allowing the smaller to land a devestating hit in the solar plexus. He doubled over and was put into a head lock. A sharp twist, a loud crack and the fight was over. The body dropped to the ground and the victor raised his right fist. "HRRAAARRR!" he screamed out and everyone watching copied him.

"HRRRAAARRR!"

The crowd dispersed slowly and the English boy was left staring. The mouth was open, eyes glazed and the head was bent at an extreme angle...Harry felt sick.

"And this is where our lesson begins." He heard a rasp. "If you wish to address me with concerns, my title to you is 'Father' and nothing else. You are to bring that boy back to life." Harry was shoved forwards, making him stumble and drop to his knees by his 'assignment.'

Harry licked his suddenly dry lips. "H-how...?"

"How what."

The Boy-Who-Lived found it in him to frown. "How, _father?_"

"Use your will. Focus on your reaction to this death and will its reversal." And Harry tried. He focused on the nausea, on his horror, on his unease...he shuffled through his feelings but not one of them worked. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.

Ten minutes later, Harry was no longer horrified, but frustrated. "It's not working!"

"Focus!" was the only thing his teacher snapped out as he had for the past six minutes. Harry's face was slowly forming into a thundercloud of anger as his temper frayed but he obediently went back to work this time using that anger. When there was no progress he impatiently tried to feel nothing at all.

Feeling nothing was much harder than it sounded, random thoughts kept flitting into his mind to distract him but he kept at it until he was suddenly aware of the necklace Thana gave him.

It was cold.

_I wonder..._He lifted it out of his shirt, over his head and pressed it against the rapidly cooling body. _Focus._ Harry imagined that strange emotion he felt at Halloween flowing out of his heart, down his arm and into the pendant of the necklace. In his mind's eye, a glow traveled slowly in a spiral from the tail and coiling around and around until it reached the head at the center. Outside of his mind, something was happening.

The snake was beginning to glow a soft blue, spiraling inwards. It reached the head and the snake struck, jutting its head out further to sink tiny obsidian fangs into the body. The unknown young man convulsed, took a breath, and faded from sight.

* * *

_Else where..._

_"You shouldn't underestimate the bo-" Thana jerked suddenly, stopping in her tracks with a lost and confused look on her face. She turned towards Kring and raised a finger. "I-" Before her eyes rolled upwards and she collapsed._

* * *

"Father, I did it!" Harry cried out happily, opening his eyes but his face became confused when there was nothing in front of him anymore. He heard the man breathe, what happened? He turned to ask what the big idea was but froze as he caught sight of his teacher's face.

Clearly seen among the wrinkles and scars, was fear.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed down the sudden anger that welled in him. He was still a freak. Jumping to his feet, fully intending on running away from everything until he calmed down Harry made only two steps.

On the third, he blacked out.

* * *

He was...somewhere strange. It was a void. There was no floor, no walls and no roof. When he thought about it, there were no directions to determine where he was either. He was just there.

_Hmm?_ There was a light. With nothing better to do, Harry began to float towards it. It called to him, somehow, and he responded.

Floating closer the light began to form a shape and then a body. The person was familiar but with her back to him he couldn't tell how he knew her. Her shoulders were shaking.

"Are you ok?" he asked because he should. She gasped, spinning around and Harry's heart sank. He didn't know her. She was pretty but her hair was white and the right eye was like molten gold with a strangely shaped pupil. _Sickle..._ The left was a pale blue that sparked some neurons but that was the only thing he recognized. From where, he still could not say.

"You!" she snapped harshly. "You should not be here!"

Harry was confused. Why not? "I..."

Her voice changed, becoming multi-toned and an ugly snarl formed on her face. _**You. Should. Not. Be. Here!**_

"Look, lady-"

_**OUT!**_

The void obeyed and Harry found himself spiraling off into nowhere, screaming.

* * *

Kring watched them both nervously.

His Goddess was invincible, omniscient and omnipotent and unfortunately, unattainable or at least, that was how Kring saw her just an hour ago. But then she passed out for no reason and his belief was shaken. The boy was her weakness. Why she allowed it -- _did she? --_ he did not know but the fact remained that this Ha-ree was able to free a soul completely from the Mists before fainting. Neither Thana nor himself had a claim on Pysus anymore and _that _was impossible.

Or improbable now.

He still couldn't quite bring himself to believe-

Both pairs of eyes, one green and one blue, snapped open as the owners of those eyes took one desperate breath simultaneously. Thanatos came to herself first and without allowing the boy to realize what she was about to do, reached over between cots, ripped the necklace she gave him off and shattered it against the wall. Harry snapped fully awake.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!" He screamed, hot anger urging him to do something, to make her pay for that, to hurt her. He balled up his fist and felt his arm raise-

All of it evaporated.

Thana's eyes were wide, breathing shallowly in short gasping breaths and trembling as she stared at the black pieces of rock on the floor. She was scared.

"Thana...I'm sorry..."Harry felt tears drip down his face as he lowered his arm and cringed away. Thana shouldn't be scared of anything, it was Thana for crying out loud! It just wasn't..._right..._it wasn't right at all!

Sadness turned to worry as the woman began to sway on her feet.

"Tha-" she fell. "Thana!" Kring got there first, hefting her easily and without a word carried her out of the room. Harry jumped out of bed but was held back by one of the guards whose hand was as big as his head. He struggled anyway. "Let me go! Thana!" he called after her. "Than-" he was backhanded roughly, toppling him back onto the bed. _Thana!_

* * *

She awoke to an unfamiliar ceiling. She knew she should remember it, but when she grasped at the memory it danced just out of her reach.

"So you're awake, my Goddess." Someone rumbled and she blinked slowly. Goddess...was that what she was? A sudden headache. She tried to raise her hand, attempting to rub her temples but it was caught in a smaller one belonging to a sleeping black-haired boy. She sat up and in her new vantage point, she could see an ugly bruise forming on his face.

"The one who did that has been punished severely." That voice said again but she ignored it. Why should she care?

There was a tiny groan and brilliant green eyes opened groggily. He blinked and then sat up quickly. "Thana! You're awake!" he crowed happily. "Don't scare me like that!" She stared at him. Who was he to her? Her eyes came upon a strange scar on his forehead and she remembered.

Reaching out slowly, as if unsure of herself, she tousled his already messy hair. "I'll make you another, alright?" He grinned, leaving her to wonder. Did he always forgive her so easily? And with a rush, her mind once again split into three, allowing a familiar smirk that was her and yet not to appear on her face. "I would apologize but..."

He shoved her playfully and, to Harry, all was right with the world.

To Thana, something was wrong.

* * *

_And once, just once, a heartbeat echoed throughout the emptiness..._

Be sure to tell me what you think of this chapter. It might be very mysterious (ok, it is mysterious) but its important. Please review!

* * *


	12. Touch of Reality

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"Like any good fool, many believe that using blood leads to the darkest of magics. In this sense, 'dark' means far more powerful than many think it should be. They would be wrong, of course, as blood is just a sub-category. True necromancy doesn't need it for all its 'darkness,' neither does any other arcane branch of far too powerful magic. It's possible and in truth, very easy, to cast a blood based spell or ward without using a single drop, but blood is easy to blame. Love on the other hand, a force capable of raising the dead and weaving protection so strong that it would have kept Atlantis secure, is not so easy to ban." – Unknown, source destroyed _

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was not fooled, but he wished that he had chosen to be "not fooled" before he let Harry out of his sight.

Off the top of his head, he could recall that the Ergussons were a branch off of the main Potter line that migrated to Sweden around the time of the Great Potato Famine from their original home of Ireland. By now the relation was rather distant, but it was close enough for magic and that was precisely the problem.

The Blood Wards had moved.

There were no ill intentions from the woman that he could see from a liberal use of Legilimency, all for the greater good of course, and he was familiar enough with her last name. An Ergusson had attended Hogwarts all those years ago just before he himself became Headmaster and if his memory served him well, it had been Charlus Potter's third cousin of some sort. But now that he had a chance to actually go over the rather short meeting and look up some records…

Constanze Magdeline Ergusson was not Light.

Not even close.

After checking once, twice, thrice in the Pensieve to ease the cold grip on his heart he realized that her magical aura had been all wrong. It was horribly twisted, acting more like a vortex sucking in rather than shining out. The air temperature had dropped slightly; her aura was…damaged for lack of a better word and hazel eyes that were far too pale to even be natural…

It could only be dark rituals and Dumbledore was horrified to realize that he had handed the Boy-Who-Lived over to such a person. And for two weeks! Who knew what could happen in that period of time?

But alas, he was rather stuck with it. Where ever the manor was it was hidden and warded very well, he would have to wait until school started up again to undo the damage.

* * *

Thanatos was not pleased to note that her plans had been thrown slightly out of line.

In a way, they had been jump-started since the result was what she wanted eventually but since the time frame was _very_ wrong, she was left to clean up the mess.

The first day after had been the worst.

There was nothing more irritating to Death Incarnate than to have her iron clad sense of self, the very same strength that protected her from being absorbed by Death, routinely stripped every hour on the hour. She would walk or lounge around, perfectly fine, and then suddenly not remember who she was, where she was, who she was with or _what_ she was. She'd be left lost, confused and _scared_ like a damn mortal until she laid eyes on the boy and would then spend the rest of the hour trying to break the link.

Once the hour was up, the cycle started again.

The second day was not as bad since she kept her identity the whole way through. Instead, she had to deal with the influx of foreign emotions from her "project" and the third day was synchronizing day since she felt the strong urge to do anything he was doing whether it be eating, sleeping or acting childish.

The fourth day she had been strangely sensitive and knew when Harry got hungry, was cold, was tired, etc and by the fifth she was ready to kill the boy, damn the consequences.

She almost did and would have had he been expendable. As much as she was loathe to admit it; to Thanatos the boy had some value.

She couldn't get to Eternity without permission from the owner.

* * *

Harry collapsed on his cot, whole body feeling like cooked jelly, and started cursing everyone that came to mind. Hermione for not inviting him over for Christmas, Dumbledore for not forcing him to stay, Thana because she brought him here, Kring for being an arse and his damn teacher for torturing him in the name of exercise!

For a week now he had woken up before dawn and made to run several miles at a brisk pace before breakfast that was limited to blood pastries. After was a several hour "beat Harry" session in which he was attacked so he could develop a "battle sense," muscle memory and all that rot. Then there was actually teaching him how to fight followed by repeated failure to bring something back to life and then another several mile run before he was dismissed.

Going to bed hungry because he was just so damn tired was becoming routine.

Sighing into his pillow, Harry let his eyes drift shut.

A few seconds later, they snapped open. Ice was in his veins.

"So the other end leads to you!" Harry gritted his teeth at the mock-astonishment in the voice. _Bloody hell no…_ "I do wonder how this happened…"

The boy rolled off his stomach onto his back, baring his teeth. "What the hell do you want, Pal!?" Palquenta smiled at him from the other side of the room, white-blonde hair flowing about her, and Harry's heart lurched. Something powerful was pulsing off of her and it changed everything. If one ignored the less-than-stellar personality, Palquenta was always quite beautiful but now she was so perfect, she was ugly. Everything about her screamed _unnatural!_ And there was this crazed glint in her eyes that made his skin crawl. _Where's Thana when you need her!_

Pal glided forward with an inquisitive look on her face. "Tell me, has my Thana been acting...strange at all?"

Harry choked down the automatic _she's not yours you psycho_ and shook his head rapidly. "Even if she was, I sure as hell wouldn't tell you!"

The woman gave him a slightly pitying look as she stopped at the foot of the cot. "So loyal…a simple 'no' would have convinced me better, thing." Harry started looking for something to throw. "How about you? Feeling…angry lately?" And froze in disbelief. He had been feeling angry, a red hot intense temper that he thought left behind had come back full force. Harry had never been a particularly violent person but just recently he was getting strange urges to hurt people for some offense. At first, he thought it was Sparta getting to him, but now...

"What's it to you anyway?" he said cautiously, unwilling to give her any satisfaction whatsoever.

She buffed her nails. "These days Thana and Death are almost inseparable and difficult to tell apart but back _then_ she had quite the temper," Pal said slyly. "Why, you two are quite alike now that I think about it! But you're missing one very…important…trait." She drew out and watched Harry carefully. "Would you like to know what it is?"

The boy almost snarled. "Don't. Play. Games, Pal." The white-clad woman walked around the edge of the cot and sat down right next to Harry, who leaned back away from her in response. "Go back to Zion and your shrub. Leave me alone!" Anger was a safe response to Palquenta. Harry was almost afraid of what his mind would come up with if he dwelled on her words.

Her eyes flashed silver in anger at her Tree being called a shrub but it calmed far too quickly for Harry's liking. Instead, her smile grew wider.

"I want to know what it is that is so special about you, mortal," she whispered, uncomfortably close. "What game Thana is playing…" Harry couldn't tell if she stopped talking or went to soft for him to hear but in the next second it didn't matter.

Pal kissed him.

Harry's brain crashed and then violently rebooted, jerking him away hard enough to tumble off the cot. He rolled with it into the stone wall, hissing and spitting like a wet cat or disturbed snake. "What the hell!?" The cold in his blood suddenly got colder and Pal's head swiveled to face the same direction his did.

"So you have arrived." Harry didn't quite register Pal's words, feeling a lump form in his throat.

Thana looked sick.

There were heavy bags beneath blood-shot eyes and she was so pale that spidery blue veins were showing beneath the skin. The once overly confident posture was slumped over as a chill racked her small frame, now practically swimming in her robes. One hand was tightly holding onto the door frame for support as her weight leaned on it. She looked fragile enough for a good wind to blow her right over.

Thana's pale eyes slid over to Harry. "Stop feeling sorry for me, boy," she said flatly. And then glided her eyes back to Palquenta. "And what the hell are you doing here."

"Why, I was worried about you of course," was the glib reply. "A third wheel is unheard of." Harry caught himself trying to melt into the wall. The strange auras were flaring against each other, triggering a fight or flight response in his body. The boy made it a point to never wonder what his best friend was but right now his brain was screaming: god!

"Do me a favour and bugger off, Pal."

"Not until you tell me what the thing is to you!" The blonde stood up, fists clenching. "Why won't you let me break it?"

"It'll kill him." Harry's breath caught as a disembodied voice rang in his head after this remark. _I wouldn't believe her if I were you, thing. Your link is a parasite. If you don't break it, she'll be the one to die. And you don't want that...do you?_

"And?"

Thana's gaze turned back towards the boy huddling in the corner, weighing responses and searching for the right one. "He's my friend."

Pal looked stunned for a moment but a sly smile soon oozed onto her face. "You always were a good liar." Electric-blue eyes sought out Harry's emerald ones. "I will see you later, thing." Then she was gone and Harry could breathe, the ice fading.

There was a minute or two of tired silence. "Thana?" Harry asked quietly. "Was that a..." He couldn't bring himself to say "lie" as if just saying it would cause it to be true.

His friend was already turning to go but looked back over her shoulder, a worn expression on her face. "Don't listen to anything Palquenta says, Harry." The boy watched until she disappeared into the shadows, having a mind war. Part of him wanted desperately to believe her but the Slytherin side noted that she didn't exactly deny it. And there was always Pal's last warning to consider, echoing in his head.

* * *

_I wouldn't believe her...parasite...she'll...die...don't want...do you?_

* * *

Thanatos hobbled along the halls back to her room, wincing with every step she took as the link between mortal and Incarnate stretched. Some days, it just didn't pay to get out of bed, as the mortal saying went and Death's Incarnate was definitely feeling like she should have just left the universe to screw itself over today. Palquenta was curious and that meant the others were not far behind. If they knew, they'd try to stop her and that just wouldn't do.

* * *

_"What's this?" Thanatos hefted the make shift circular object curiously, noting the pebbles and beads the boy had managed to get into it._

_"It's a bracelet, goes 'round your wrist." The marked one said simply, drawing in the dust of his cupboard._

_"What's it for?"_

_"It's a present, you give things to your friends."_

_"So, I'm your friend?"_

_His thin face brightened. "Yeah! I mean...if that's alright with you...?" He drew a little faster._

_Friend was an abstract concept. It wasn't something Death knew about and probably never would, but if she was to get close to the boy... "What else do friends do?"_

_"Oh, they-!" Emerald eyes dropped to the floor. "I don't know."_

_Might as well go the whole way. "My name is...Thana," she offered and the boy smiled up at her, understanding._

_"Hi Thana, I'm Harry. Wanna be friends?"_

* * *

_Death, what should I do?_

**I? Since when, Thanatos, **the void began. **Have you and I been seperate?**

The revelation felt like a slap to the face.

* * *

It's back to Hogwarts next chap and Dumbles is going to get a little more active in Harry's life annoying everyone and possessed Quirrel makes a move. Can Palquenta be trusted?

Ok, at this point I am seriously considering a Harry/Thanatos pairing later (much later), who would stop reading if that was the case?

Review please!


	13. Confessions to Thee

**_I encourage reviews of any type.  
_A/N: Yeah, yeah I know what you're thinking. Why the hell did you not think of Harry/Thana before!? I know, I know but to make it official this is now a H/Th story. Longer chapter this time.**

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"Prophecies are tricky things. I am still of the opinion that they are often self-fulfilling, taking one important piece of information to manipulate events and people into bringing it to fruition. Fortunately, I've never had any made about me but if I did, I would do my best to prove it wrong, even to the point of ending my life early. I am that annoyed with them. Made on the whims of Fate and completely uncaring of the human factor, it has destroyed far more lives than they could ever save. The life of a "chosen one" is a cursed existence. No, there is nothing praise-worthy about prophecies at all." - Celeste Mardrige, Seer 1654-1703_

* * *

Harry had just finished packing his trunk when Thana came in.

Well, the 11 year old called it packing but in truth he simply stuffed everything into it and then sat on the cover so it would close. He wasn't in the mood or the mindset to carefully fold his clothes and fuss over small details.

He was angry.

Angry at the Dursleys for making him overly reliant on any sign of affection, angry at Palquenta for being such an annoying bitch, angry at himself for being such a child but mostly angry at Thana for making him doubt her. Whether Palquenta meant it or not she had succeeded on cracking the carefully and lovingly built illusion Harry made of his first friend. When he had first met Thana as a five year old, she was like an imaginary friend who simply couldn't be anything less than perfect. She was better than him in every way so it was ok that sometimes she was a little mean, but she never made him cry and promised that they'd be friends forever. For someone so helplessly needy for affection, any and all infractions on her part were near instantly forgiven.

Even though she never asked for it.

"Potter?" Harry's fists clenched at the sound of Thana's tired voice. _She'll be the one to die…if I don't break it…_"Are you ready to leave?"

"Are you really going to die?" he countered with a question of his own. "Who lied, you or Pal?" There was a moment of tense silence.

"Not…not now, Harry," Thana sighed heavily. "Please don't ask now."

Surprised – she said please? – Harry turned away from his bulging trunk just enough so that he could see her from the corner of his eye. She wasn't as bad as last night; seemingly alternating from healthy to deathly sick in hours, but there was still a weariness making lines in her forehead and bags under her eyes.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry winced at how blunt that sounded.

She gave a dry laugh. "You can wake up in the morning and know that your name is Harry Potter." Her voice dropped off to a whisper. "Apparently I can no longer do the same." She tilted her head in that familiar way and swept her gaze over the trunk behind him before speaking in a slightly louder voice, "Trouble packing?"

The boy shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like an ogre for doubting her. She still looked awful, not at all like the she-demon his mind was conjuring. "Yeah…sorry…" he scratched the back of his neck, averting his gaze. _Bloody hell this is awkward…me and my big mouth._ He knew that he should push the issue but a cold fear was stopping him. What would happen if he didn't get the answer he wanted? The mere thought of her leaving him alone, truly alone and not just ignored, was keeping his tongue tied.

Her lips quirked into a weak smile and with a casual wave of the hand sent his clothes scattering all over the room. Before he could protest they began to fold themselves, including his boxers in plain sight causing a flush to work its way up to his forehead. "You…really didn't have…to do…" he began weakly before slumping. _And this is embarrassing. _Once the last article was in the trunk, he straightened his posture, trying to pretend that nothing happened. "We're leaving now?"

In answer she turned her back to him and started walking at a slow pace. Grumbling under his breath, Harry latched onto the trunk and lugged it behind her. "Shouldn't we say good bye to Kring?" he asked as they crossed the thresh hold between the citadel and the rest of Sparta.

Thana shook her head minutely. "He knows," was the cryptic response and the boy shrugged.

"If you say so..." As they passed the replaced gate, Harry was suddenly struck with a random thought: This was the first time he spent Christmas away from the Dursleys. New Years had come and gone without him noticing it for the first time in his life. He was going back to Hogwarts, an honest to goodness school of magic...his life had changed quite a bit in only a few months. _But where is it going to go now?_ After seven years in Hogwarts...then what? What jobs could he get, was he really leaving the "muggle" world forever behind?

"I can see steam coming from your ears, boy." He gave her an irritated look, inwardly pleased to note the stronger smile she was giving him from over her shoulder, blue eyes flashing white as they descended into the Mists.

"Just thinking about my future," he mumbled, feeling his face heat up. "I...never really thought about what I'm going to do after I graduate, what classes I'll take and all that, you know?"

She made an amused humming noise deep in her throat. "Don't worry about it; you'll have forever to think it over." She raised a mocking eyebrow. "I dare say you'll find something in that time."

Harry tripped over his feet, stunned. "Forever!? Are you serious?" _Forever..._ it was both a frightening and thrilling thought. It was a long time after all, or was this another version of her "half of eternity" remarks?

"Serious?" Her eyes flashed white. "Of course I am, boy." Her blue eyes then flashed gold as she winced, right hand already rising towards her temple before she reversed it back to her side. "Do you not want it or something?" she finished tightly and Harry shook his head at a fast clip.

"I do! Sorry..."

"No...I'm," she cut into his apology but couldn't seem to bring herself to finish whatever she wanted to say. "Never mind."

Harry eyed her pained expression suspiciously. "Are you sure you're ok?" She was acting...nicer...quieter for sure and it was bothering him. His unease increased as she seemed to withdraw into herself, hunching her shoulders over and dropping her head.

"I'm fine, just tired. Very, very tired." She halted suddenly, sending wisps of white smoke curling around her body. "Last chance for getting anything you forgot, Potter."

"I've got everything." he said automatically.

In response she fished around in her robes. "No...not everything..." and brought out a small obsidian snake bracelet. "I promised, didn't I?" Harry took it gingerly, feeling like an utter git for not getting her anything. It greatly resembled the other one, down to the tiny scales, ruby eyes and tiny fangs. "Because, you know...I kind of broke the other one..."

"It's perfect," Harry choked out and hastily slipped it onto his arm. It warmed up quickly, to the point where he almost looked down to see if an actual snake had replaced it, and fit snugly. His second present within days of the other, it was official; this was the best year of his life. "Thanks."

"Yeah, whatever." She grabbed hold of his shoulder. "Don't be disappointed if I'm not there for the first month or so." At his hurt look she elaborated, "There are some things I need to figure out. Important...stuff."

Harry shoved the pain – _I'm going to be alone again_ -- down and snorted. "Fine, fine just Jump us already."

Eyebrow up. "Jump?"

The boy's face coloured in embarrassment. "I don't know what else to call it!" he cried, resisting the urge to flail his arms while he still held onto his trunk. "So sue-" The rest of his words were lost as they vanished from sight, white smoke rushing to fill in the suddenly empty space.

* * *

"_Do you trust me?" She asked him as white trails sped past. It was the moment Between the divide of mortal and immortal, existence and non-existence, conscious and sub-conscious. There were no lies here._

_Brilliant green surveyed her, piercing, arresting and judging green, eyes that had yet to lose the spark of life no immortal had. "Nope!" he said cheekily before quickly sobering. "Not anymore." It took her several non-seconds to realize that the pain in her chest was not her dying, but guilt._

"_Good," she said finally, having not much she could say. "Good." A sudden fire took hold of her and she almost hissed in displeasure. What was she doing? Was she trying to ruin __**everything!?**_

_This moment, she decided, he could not be allowed to remember. _

* * *

"Her-hermione, hi! You look…" Harry trailed off as he belatedly realized that he had no experience with these kinds of things. Was there such a thing as an over board compliment? "…Smashing." He finished and plastered a bright smile on his face.

The girl in question smiled back, looking him over. "Went somewhere warm?"

Harry blinked. "Huh?" he said intelligently. Sparta didn't really count as someplace "warm" did it?

"Oh, it just looks like you got a tan, that's all." She explained casually, stuffing her trunk into a shelf. "Your hair got, oh I don't know, a little lighter maybe?"

His hand trailed upwards, brushing over said hair thoughtfully. It had grown in the past couple of months. He had kept the sides and back cut close, since he was getting used to not feeling his hair brush his neck, but the top was now longer than the original inch. It's anti-gravity properties were creeping back in, making it look like he had tried to grow a Mohawk of some sort, but quit half way through.

"I was actually in Sweden with my cousin," he stuck to the cover story. "I guess the sun bouncing off the snow is to blame."

"Did you go skiing?"

"And break my leg in the mountains? Are you bloody nuts?" As they began swapping Christmas tales, Harry relaxed slightly. He had been expecting Hermione to jump him and beat him bloody for the changes she went through…was still going through. Her hair was still frizzy with developing ringlets but there was a silvery sheen to it caused by a number of grey hairs that hadn't been there before. Her face was thinning and she had already grown to be just under dead even in height with him.

And her eyes were no longer chocolate brown but hazel.

Malfoy was the first one to notice her changes.

He had come barging in, oddly this time he wasn't flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, fully intent on giving Harry hell for not seeking him out to sit with but when he caught sight of Hermione, he froze with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What?" the Gryffindor barked, recognizing the "Prince of Slytherin."

Malfoy just turned to Harry. "Can I talk to you outside? Now…" Shrugging, Harry stood up and followed the blond outside the compartment. After the door was firmly shut Malfoy hissed, "Granger is a mudblood, right?"

The black-haired boy raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked," he said slowly before smirking. "Unless she was adopted or her parents were wizards who ran away." The smirk died when he realized that Malfoy was still staring at him with that intense expression. "You really don't think…"

"Look at her, Potter!" Harry looked. He couldn't really do anything else; taking the blame for her changes was only going to cause problems. "There is no way you can tell me she doesn't look like a pureblood witch!"

_Well_, Harry thought. _At least the pureblood prejudice is good for something. He could barely stand her just being smarter but now he has to find an explanation that fits how she looks too. _"With memory charms, you could slip a witch into a muggle home easy," he offered after some thought. This could only help Hermione, right? "No one would know…maybe a potion wore off?"

"I'll ask my godfather." Malfoy declared and stalked off, suitably too distracted to recall what he was mad at Harry for.

As he re-entered the compartment: "What was that for?"

"Hermione, you know you look different, right?" For a brief moment, pain flitted across her face. "Malfoy thinks it's a result of a potion wearing off…he thinks you're pureblood or at least half."

"But it wasn't a potion."

"_We_ know that, but Mal-"

"You did this."

Harry felt his heart stop. "Wha-wha…don't be silly…" His mouth was drier than the Sahara.

Hermione reached up and tugged on a lock of hair. "This happened literally over-night. I went to bed Christmas Eve as Hermione and woke up Christmas looking like someone else. And I…" Harry swallowed. "I remembered dying."

His mind was racing at a mile a second, running through responses and actions as if his life depended on it. Hermione is a reasonable girl, his Slytherin side noted. Use that against her to keep quiet about it! His inner Gryffindor tried to mount a defense, instilling a small amount of guilt, but it was no contest.

"Look, you can't tell anyone about that! Do you know what they might do to me?" he injected a calculated amount of panic and pleading into his voice. "Let them think you've gone pureblood, _please_ Hermione."

Straight and to the point, guaranteed to catch a Gryffindor's attention. The girl looked a bit overwhelmed but nodded. "I…wasn't thinking but…not even the Headmaster…?"

"**Definitely** not him." She looked argumentative. "It would put him in an awkward position with the government, don't you think?"

"Oh fine, but I better get answers!"

"Someday soon," he agreed, already planning to hit the library for a similar magical talent to use as a cover up. "But let's introduce the pureblood you to my friends, ok?" Thana was _**his**_ secret and his alone.

For now anyway.

* * *

The students weren't the only ones to notice Hermione Granger's new look.

The Head Table was understandably confused when the muggleborn girl walked into the Great Hall as if she owned it, shyly conversing with Tracy Davis, half-blood, of Slytherin house. Among the honest confusion there was Severus' low moan of "Now the girl will be insufferable…," Minerva's relief that the girl seemed to be making friends, even if it was Slytherins and Dumbledore's disappointed frown aimed not at her but at Harry.

Perhaps the prejudices of his house had run that deep in the boy, to the point where he couldn't leave her heritage alone through necromancy. He was paying special attention to the now more accepting attitude the Potter had towards the girl and deduced that her tentative new status was at fault. No, he absolutely could not leave Harry to continue down this path lest he follow in the footsteps of the young Tom Riddle who even at a young age was never comfortable around muggleborns.

It took Minerva's irritated elbow in his side for Dumbledore to realize that he had been "scheming" past the time for the speech. He stood up, smiling widely and improvising heavily.

"Welcome back, one and all! I hope you all had a delightful Christmas and enjoyed your presents. I'm sorry to say that the third corridor is still off limits to everyone and the rest of the rules remain unchanged. The Slytherin/Ravenclaw Quidditch match as been set two weeks from now and for you older students, Hogsmeade weekend is approaching!" Pause for the cheers. "Classes resume full time tomorrow, don't forget." He sat back down among the moans, eyes firmly on the Slytherin table.

The Blood Wards were gone, Harry was a Slytherin and, he feared, turning dark before his very eyes. He had it on good faith that the boy was going to be invited over as a guest of many old families…like the Malfoys soon enough. He had let this spool out for far too long.

It was time to reign it back in.

* * *

The first thing Theodore Nott said when he was informed that Hermione was most likely a pureblood was, "I knew it!" It was kind of sad how much these children were already willing to bend the world so it fit in with their views. Harry believed that if you spent too much time warping the world like that, when it finally snapped back it was going to shatter everything.

He had proof in the form of Thana. He bent and bent his ideal of the friend that would never abandon him around her and it left him putting duct tape bandages over his heart.

He'd let it shatter later but in front of Dumbledore was not a good place to have an emotional breakdown.

"Ah, thank you Severus." The dark man sneered before swiftly descending down the stairs like a giant bat with the attitude of a wounded wolverine. He had not been happy fetching "the Potter brat" but Harry could care less if the man was happy or not. They tolerated each other in class because of Malfoy and that was it.

"Please take a seat, lemon drop?" The old man held out a bowl of candies and pouted when Harry waved them off. "No one ever appreciates the simple pleasures of life, do they?" He popped one in his mouth as Harry stared. _What the bloody hell?_

"Why am I here?" he said bluntly.

"How was Christmas at your cousin's, Harry?" Dumbledore asked instead. "Nothing…untoward happened?"

The boy's peeved expression faded into wary blankness. "It was fun, she was fun. Had snowball fights, hot chocolate and everything, why?"

Dumbledore's pale blue eyes twinkled. "How were your presents? I'm sure you got some."

"Two," Harry admitted and stretched out his arm enough for the man to see but not enough for him to reach it should he make a grab. "I broke the first one on accident." The twinkle dimmed slightly as he took in the black snake bracelet. The light in his office playing off the scales gave it the appearance of breathing and, unfortunately, there was magic leaking off of it. He'd have to get rid of it.

"I too have a gift for you," he reached under the desk and brought out a package. "It belonged to your father."

Harry took it, still showing no emotion. "Belonged to my father, you say?" The Headmaster nodded. "Then why do _you_ have it and not my trust vault?"

"Now, Harry, I was the beneficiary for them and witness to their will. It's hardly surprising-" the boy stood up suddenly, face twisting.

"I'd ask what else you have from my parents but I don't think you'd tell me," he said coldly.

Dumbledore frowned mightily. "Harry, you're being unreasonable."

Harry shook his head sharply once. "You expect me to believe, that my parents _wanted_ me to be dropped off on the Dursleys doorstep?"

"Harry…" he tried to intercede before it got too out of hand.

"No! Carrying out a will is an official process, even I know that! You should have handed me over in a court, they should have actually had _my adoption papers_ but they don't. I checked. They don't want me, I don't want them. I'm not stupid and I'm not going back."

"But you must…" The look he got was practically ordering him to jump off a cliff. "They're family…"

"Then I'll live in Sweden. Good bye!" In a similar manner to the potions master, Harry swept out of the office and down the stairs, muttering angrily.

Albus Dumbledore sighed, popping another Lemon Drop.

The Ergussons were a distant relation but close enough for magic. He now knew where the Blood Wards most likely were and that in itself was a problem. Driving wedges between people was not his favorite activity but he would do it for the greater good of all.

Meanwhile, Harry's anger was spiking wildly as he stormed the school halls.

"Mr. P-potter!" He turned and spotted Professor Quirrel jogging up behind him. "I-I've b-b-been looking f-for you."

_Deep breaths Harry…let it go_. "What can I help you with Professor?" he said after he calmed down enough.

"Ah, the A-stronomy T-t-tower for a p-project of mi-mine." Harry met the teacher's watery blue eyes curiously and his scar tingled.

"Okay."

* * *

"I can feel you moping all the way from my own Realm, Thanatos. Whatever is the matter?" Harry Potter's proud immortal friend was squatting by the banks of her River, drawing circles in the sand with one hand, covering her face with the other.

"I'm in pain, Yin and would rather be left alone." Kuan Yin stepped closer, knowing that being surly was just Death's way of asking for help.

"I'd rather not." Five quick steps and she was kneeling by the dark-haired woman, her own raven locks brushing the black sand. "Leaving you alone is asking for trouble," she continued softly. "Talk to me." Thanatos' body shuddered. "You should cry those tears. It will help."

"No it won't!" Thana exploded, snapping her head to the side to glare before the fight drained out of her, leaving her drawing circles again. "It won't…it can't."

Kuan Yin sighed. She had seen the reason why Thana had been covering her face…one of her eyes was the pale shade of blue she had been mortally born with and the other a harsh gold with a sickle pupil. "And this is why we don't interact with mortals, Thanatos. We start to remember and when you change, we all do." Another sigh. "We will all be involved soon."

Thana turned her head again to study the Incarnate of Empathy. Silken black hair, olive skin, a button nose and almond shaped grey eyes she was the closest thing to a mother any of them had because she felt the emotions of every existing thing. She cared. "Let me guess," Thana began in a dry tone. "Weaver hates me a bit more now."

Yin laughed. "In a way, we all do." And Empathy took over with a whisper. But we do not blame you for it. The Weave is blocked to even her now, we must await our part. We have no choice but to follow you.

Thanatos shrugged uncaringly but her eyes were suspiciously bright. Perhaps having them know wouldn't be so bad. Plans change, after all. "Let's rock the universe Harry," she whispered and like pressure being released her golden eye faded into a pale blue. The storm inside her calmed.

"Eternity awaits."

* * *

Need feedback on this chapter...I slaved over it and I am still not satisfied with it but I'll leave it here.

New Incarnate: Incarnate of Empathy

Kuan Yin answers to the Incarnate of Desire (unknown) and is the filter for every complex emotion. She was a Chinese noble in ancient mainland China, unhappily married, when given the offer of immortality by the previous Empathy Incarnate. Her Realm has not yet been visited.


	14. Visit to Void

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"From the records of the merpeople, it can be speculated that the downfall of Atlantis was caused by experimentation into a much forbidden subject: the Void. There are various magical legends and theories ranging from the muggle Bible's traditional tale of creation taking place of a 'void,' formless and desolate to the controversial theory of Albert Schlauer stating that the Void contained the very essence of death, the center of that universal force. However, we cannot turn time back that far to the beginning, and Albert was drawn to the side of Grindelwald only to be consumed by that which he sought. Atlantis shall remain hidden and the mystery of the Void forever out of our reach." – notes by Nicholas Flamel_

* * *

Harry followed his teacher up the many steps to the Astronomy Tower, feeling very uneasy.

He was pretty sure it was his imagination but on every step it seemed like the snake bracelet on his arm would constrict. It was already uncomfortably warm, he really didn't need to be thinking that it moved as well but it still scared the crap out of him. Several times he had glanced down at it, as if trying to catch it moving, and he even peered at it once without his glasses on.

Only once, because seeing that face staring at him intently from the back of Quirrel's head was even scarier than a moving bracelet.

"I-I'm th-thinking of s-s-some Leithfolds for the o-older classes," Quirrel was rambling. "S-so a secure roo-room would b-b-be b-best."

Harry tilted his head to the side. "Wouldn't the dungeons be better than a one-exit room?"

Quirrel flushed as he pushed open the creaking wooden trap door. "I d-didn't w-want them t-to get l-lost in the c-c-castle." Harry conceded the point; chasing little shadow demons throughout the maze that was the Hogwarts dungeons would have been a pain. But if not the dungeons than any other easily closed off room would have worked, there were plenty of empty classrooms after all.

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry followed the professor up the ladder into the top room of the tower.

The Tower was nothing particularly impressive, just a circular room with many old and faded cushions lying around. There was a large telescope sticking out of one slit window that Harry caught sight of as he walked to the center of the room. _I wonder what Thana would think of this,_ he thought with a small smile. _Probably throw the pillows at me._

The smile disappeared as his scar began to tingle again.

Turning, he watched Quirrel innocently checking the windows and muttering in his stunted way about covers. Uncaring, and a bit bored, Harry wandered over to the telescope. "Are we going to move this thing?" It was quite large but had this strange hollow look to it that he never noticed before. Figuring that it was magic and unlikely to be as heavy as it looked, he crouched, preparing to give it an experimental shove.

"P-potter! Don't!" Harry turned and time slowed down. Quirrel was running towards him, a look of concern on his face before the man's foot caught on a pillow. _He's headed straight for me,_ Harry had time to think before Quirrel's out of control fall collided with him. Instead of feeling a wall against his back, there was air. _And a window behind me. _Harry tilted his head as he took in Quirrel's horrified face…and the triumphant gleam in his blue eyes. _What does a quorxat want_ echoed through the boy's mind before everything dropped out of his sight.

Harry plummeted off the tower like a stone, wondering how much this death was going to hurt him. It was quite a long fall, after all. Nothing like the jump off the roof.

Harry didn't feel his body smash into the ground but he did hear the ominous crack as his neck broke.

_Ouch._

* * *

He opened his eyes to a familiar nothingness but he couldn't recall when he had last seen it. Why would he have been here? There was nothing, absolutely nothing. There was no light, no objects, there was even no way to tell which way he was facing. Nothing…wait…a darkness...

Harry twisted back and forth, green eyes sweeping the expanse of darkness. He had _felt_ something here, something alive and moving. Standing there, not knowing where he was, made the boy nervous. This place wasn't as empty as he had first thought…whatever it was that he had felt...it was hungry.

Sweating, Harry reached out blindly-

-A sudden burning pain made him yelp, hand flying up to his forehead in agony. His scar was burning like it was being branded into his brain, a hot searing pain that was threatening to spill over.

A voice as equally familiar as the void was rasping harshly, **You presume to claim the Void? You far overstep your bounds, boy, I will not be leashed!** The pain doubled and then tripled, no longer limited to his forehead. It hurt far too much to even scream; it was if he was being torn apart cell by cell. Nerves on fire, skin felt as if it was melting, he was squeezing his eyes tight enough to burst several blood vessels in them. **Thanatos will have to start over.**

Harry wanted to die as he curled into a ball, silent red tears streaming down his face. He needed to die because dying meant he wouldn't hurt anymore. He wanted to die, needed to, _had_ to. He wasn't thinking anymore, just a primal desire to simply stop existing. Harry's mind detached itself from his body, unwilling to deal with the pain anymore. He was aware of his fetal position, of his face contorted, of the fact that he was hurting but it didn't matter anymore. _Let me die..._

As his consciousness floated, images started to flash in his mind's eye: asteroids, planets, nebulas, stars, galaxies…each picture got bigger in scope until finally, for several seconds, Harry saw Everything. A vast expanse of twinkling lights, too vast for him to really comprehend what he was seeing. Green eyes blinked open as his mind began to tentatively filter in that exactly how trivial his many worries were.

Harry himself, in the face of the universe, was nothing.

The next thing he knew, he was slapped in the face hard enough to whip it into the black sand. _Sand?_ Harry thought confusedly, struggling to even remember the word. His thoughts were running around on derailed trains, crashing into each other and refusing to organise themselves, still stuck on what he had just seen. _Sand?_ A comforting weight, ice cold, was on his wrist. _Sand? Thana?_ He opened his eyes and focused on an amused smirk and the comforting feel of her nearby. _Thana? Sand? Where..._

Harry tried to say "How'd you get here?" but it came out more like "mmmraaagh cough groan..."His vision swam and a sudden warmth flooded into his shoulder.

"Yeah," the woman began, looking amused. "I felt like that when Always touched me too."

* * *

Thanatos was wandering through the Mists, uncaring of where she would end up. She wasn't mortal and therefore didn't have to fear being lost forever in the white smoke. Out in the literal Nowhere was a good place to simply think.

"You will die." Pale blue eyes blinked at the voice. She knew who it was but was unable to believe that it actually sounded concerned. "You don't believe me? I can feel it. Continue this and you will _die_, Thana."

Thanatos lazily turned, derisive smirk on her face causing the morose Palquenta to fade into a scowling one. An angry Pal was much easier to deal with in Thana's opinion, not to mention that it made much more sense. The Incarnate of Life was the very one she suspected would actually celebrate her death because they really hated each other that much. Opposites attract was absolute bullshit from Death's point of view, just another thing mortals got horribly wrong.

"In a way, 'dying' is the point." Thana admitted and watched in glee as Pal gaped in shock. "Let's just say that what I want, only Eternity can give me."

"You're a fool!" Palquenta hissed, tiny fists bunching. Thana just rolled her eyes and turned back around.

"Whatever." she muttered and began walking again but not fast enough to miss Pal's low warning.

"They must follow you, but there is no rule that says all must help you, Thanatos." Her footsteps paused. They? _Come to think of it...when was the last time I heard Life speak?_ A sinking suspicion made her turn around again, but the angelic figure of Life Incarnate was already gone. The immortal frowned slightly before deciding that she was over thinking it. It wasn't as if they talked much, after all, it was probably nothing. Besides, it was _Pal_ she was almost worried about.

Grimacing, she prepared to start wandering again when a tug in the back of her mind changed her plans. _Harry died, where'd he end up this time?_ An inarticulate roar of fury from deep within her answered that question and her eyes widened. _Shit._

Thana's form vanished from the Mists and reappered at the entrance to her Void.

The dark nothingness was twisting in anger and she could see, there in the center, the curled up body of one Harry Potter. Sighing, she marched in ignoring the roars from Death, grabbed the back of his robes and hauled him out. The boy let out a small whimper and a strange feeling in her chest blossomed, making her feel almost -- thankful? -- at the sign of life.

Trust the boy to end up in the one place that could kill Incarnates and yet still not die.

A small Jump later and she was dumping him out onto the sand of Tartarus. He looked awful. Blood vessels were showing up painfully under his skin, many of them had burst creating hundreds of small bruises. His body twitched constantly and blood tears streaked his contorted face, green eyes staring blanking ahead, unfocused, at everything and nothing.

Thana frowned. _Staring at everything..._ She knelt and began to awkwardly pat his face. "Boy? Potter...you should probably wake up now..." Nothing. "Boy, I'm serious." Harry twitched and Thana's eyes narrowed. She really didn't have the patience for this and proved it by simply slapping him across the face, hard. There was a rough jerk of his chest and his breathing evened as his eyes began to slowly focus. Emerald eyes immediately saught her out and she watched them widen.

"Mmmmraaagh?" He coughed then let out a loud groan as his body protested.

Smirking, Thana placed her hand on his shoulder. The sharp tingle of a presence leaving confirmed a suspicion. "Yeah," she told him. "I felt like that when Always touched me too."

* * *

Voldemort heard the sickening crack through Quirrel's ear and couldn't help the smug satisfaction that he felt. Revenge had been sweet, but it would be even sweeter if he could look, with his own eyes, upon the crushed body of his enemy. That suggestion was the one that sent the professor skipping two steps at a time as he rushed down and then out to the base of the Astronomy tower, shaking with anticipation. The boy was dead, either that or far too paralysed to be any real threat.

As he got close, the small body groaned and then sat up. Quirrel stopped cold. Impossible. He had heard the neck breaking, seen the head twisted at an odd angle, there was no way!

Voldemort seethed, sending tendrils of pain through his host's body at the impossibility. If there had been any doubt before, it was gone. The boy was a threat, the very one in that thrice damned prophecy! And he had immortality...or something close to it while he himself was stuck as a floating spirit, too weak to do anything on his own. The very thought of someone else suceeding where he hadn't...he promptly forgot the thought.

It couldn't be immortality. Voldemort's ego wouldn't allow it.

He retreated when Harry twisted his head to look at his frozen professor.

"That hurt, you bastard." And for a moment, those green eyes turned gold...

* * *

Alright, we have about four...five chapters left of the first book...maybe more. I know you all hate the vagueness...or do you? But giving away everything just isn't fun at all!

And really, what kind of scheming mastermind would just tell their whole plan when they don't want to be stopped?

Anyway, Review please!


	15. Hurts and Revelations

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"All spells corrupt and that is the truth. Magic is an ability and using that ability gives one power. And power corrupts. Every spell, from the 'harmless' tickling hex to the powerful Killing Curse, warps one's perceptions. It doesn't matter what spell is used, a dark person will become darker and a light one even more extreme till, in the end, there is no difference between the two. A common phenomena is what this book will simply call Arrogance for simplicity. In short, it is the tendency for magical humans to not only look down instictively on muggle ways but also to not even consider a physical way of solving problems. When first learning spells, sometimes reminders that one has magic is needed but eventually they use it more and then too much. They begin to want it...need it...become their own personal god...all spells corrupt and that is the truth." - source unknown_

* * *

It was only the first day back from Christmas break and Poppy Pomfrey was not at all pleased to see Harry Potter once again in her Hospital Wing. She felt no small amount of pity for the boy and those dreadful headaches of his but she gave him enough small capsulses to make it through the rest of the year. Smiling widely and being trailed by Quirinus, he didn't appear to be in any pain...Poppy snorted. Potter was the typical Slytherin. There would be no overt displays of "weakness" from him.

"What is it this time, Mr. Potter?" she asked him in a snappish tone of voice. "I still have work to do around here."

"I didn't want to disturb you but Professor Quirrel insisted," the boy spoke pleasantly, too large grin still on his face. "You see, I broke my neck."

Poppy paused for a moment. How should she react to something like that?

"This is hardly the time for jokes," she decided on, turning back to the medical files she had been correcting. A strangled sound made her look up again and the medi-witch just now noticed that Quirinus was looking at the boy with a strange expression. It looked like fear. "Quirinus?" Poppy almost whispered, mouth dry. "Is he telling the truth?" Watery blue eyes flicked to her then back as the man nodded. She let out a breath. "Well then,"she chirped in false cheer and drew her wand. "Let's have a look!"

The results of the diagnostic spell nearly sent her wand clattering to the floor.

Her mind raced: hundreds of burst blood vessels, damaged eyes, poorly healed bones, malnutrition, muscle tears, hyperflexed ligaments...Merlin, what had this boy been through over Christmas!? Poppy's eyes suddenly narrowed as she remembered. _He visited a cousin...Albus must know of this._ In the mean time, she regained her composure enough to notice that he had rapidly healing cracks in his upper vertebrae, promptly losing her cool again.

"Merlin's Beard, what have you been doing!?"

Harry smiled wider, twitching his right shoulder back in Quirinus' direction. "He pushed me off the Astronomy Tower, Madam Pomfrey." The medi-witch's mouth fell open. "Can you imagine? Almost killed me."

* * *

"What took you so damn long, Potter!" Harry frowned slightly and turned back around, wondering what he missed. All of his aquaintances were there, with a glaring Malfoy in the lead, hands behind his back. And, to his utter surprise, Hermione was there too but with strangely non-marked plain black robes.

Harry held up in hands. "Look, I gave you your presents already." _Greedy gits..._

Malfoy stalked up to him looking so annoyed that Harry thought he was going to slap him, but then shoved a wrapped box into his chest. "But _we_ didn't give you _ours_, you imbecile!" The Potter stared at him blankly causing the blond's eyes to become slits. "Don't tell me you never got a present before..." Harry grabbed the box quickly.

"Two," he admitted. "And not from the muggles."

"You are not to go back there," Malfoy ordered, giving him a look that just invited Harry to contradict him.

"I won't." The other boy nodded once and then grabbed a hold of Harry's collar, dragging him to the center of the Commons despite his protests. "What the bloody..." his voice trailed off as a smaller wrapped box hit him in the side of the face. Harry looked down at it, noting the ugly pink, before turning his head to Parkinson. "For me?" he whispered and about five more wrapped packages were thrown at him. His green eyes went wide. Seven gifts. Hermione threw a bound book onto the small pile and Harry's vision blurred. Eight. The bracelet was warm again. "I..." he choked and then buried the emotion beneath his skin.

That was the other Slytherins cue to leave. Hermione gave him a quick hug before dashing out of the room, no doubt back to the Gryffindor Commons.

Malfoy stayed behind, gritting his teeth. Harry knew why. It wasn't often that the Slytherin Potter lost control of his facial expressions in front of his housemates. "When we get older," Malfoy began softly. "We're going to kill them."

Harry gave him an odd smile. "Of course."

"You are also going to be our guest next Christmas."

The smile grew wider and Harry realised something: even if he didn't feel particulary close to his fellow Slytherins, any of them, there was no reason to believe that they didn't care about him. Human interaction was not a one way street, after all. He could use this. "I'll think about it, Draco."

"Good, cause I haven't asked my father yet."

* * *

_Hermione is way too smart for her own good._ Harry was in his bed, bottom bunk to the left, going over the worst and best day of his life. _When I said make them think you're pureblood, I didn't mean __**really**__ pureblooded..._In a way the "muggleborn" had gotten the Slytherin house to be less openly biggoted. Only trusted Slytherins could invite another into the Commons and apparently, judging by her presence, Davis had done just that. No probably a pureblood...Parkinson? Either way, around the girl 'mudblood' was said either very quietly or not at all, treating her much the same way they treated Harry for a few days after they discovered his muggle relatives lack of care.

The only house more sensitive to other's needs was Hufflepuff and Harry never ceased to find that amusing.

Specially since in Hermione's case, it was fake. She was well off as a muggle and through her constant reading habits knew just as much if not more about the magical world than Draco did. Add in magically powerful and scarily smart and she was the perfect example of how purebloods were superior to everyone else. Too bad she wasn't pure.

Smirking, Harry let his mind drift to other thoughts. _Quirrel has a quorxat,_ Thana's voice echoed in his mind. That irritating lilt to her voice so much a part of her that he couldn't erase it from his memories even if he wanted to. _Where did he get it? _Harry blinked slowly. _What does it want?_

_I'm pretty sure it wants me dead._ Well, that mystery was easy enough to solve. _But who did I piss off?_ A moment later he could have punched himself as his eyes rolled upwards.

_They call you the Boy-Who-Lived. _Thana's voice said again. _In regards to your parents, would you care to figure out why?_ Voldemort. Voldemort was hiding away in Quirrel's head...somehow...and making him stutter if Thana was to be believed 100 percent. Did Dumbledore know?

Harry frowned, replaying facts in his mind. The story about the vampire...frequent stuttering...jumpiness...the boy's eyes narrowed at the bottom of Nott's bunk. The tingling of his scar...easy blushes...overpowering stench of garlic...turban from tribal African cheif...Tribal Africa didn't use turbans.

No one bothered to check this out why!? _And I'm afraid the third corridor is off limits to anyone who doesn't wish to suffer a painful death._ This time the voice was the Headmaster's. At the time, it seemed like a poorly made joke but now? His inner Gryffindor was screaming: confront Quirrel, confront Dumbledore, confront Snape after all, wasn't he injured a while back? But Harry squashed it. He didn't need to do anything, if it was Harry Voldemort wanted then he would come.

Oddly comforted by the thought of his attempted-murderer trying once again, Harry closed his eyes.

And awoke screaming with a powerful sense of deja vu.

But this time he was in pain. It was just like back in that place, that nothing, that feeling of being shredded on the sub-atomic level. Unlike last time though, he was able to shunt most of it aside, leaving him quivering in his bed.

"I didn't think you would do this, boy." Harry's eyes snapped to the left. _Thana!_ She was there, sitting on air with her legs crossed loosely and a resigned look on her face. "Heck, didn't think you even could." The woman leaned forward, hesitated, and then placed one cool hand on his burning forehead. "Idiot," she muttered in an almost fond tone.

Then she began to pull away.

Surprising himself with his speed, he reached out to snatch her hand. "P-please," he struggled. "Don't...mrrraagh...stay?" Thana looked at him with gold eyes and he felt her hand slip from his as she turned away and vanished. And with her, the pain faded.

The duct tape barriers fell and he could almost hear his heart breaking.

"What is it about her," Palquenta's voice mused. "That allows her to get away with abandoning you like that?"

* * *

Nifilim was one of the smallest as well as one of the weirdest Realms but really, those facts couldn't be helped.

It's Incarnate treated what should have been his home like a friend's couch and he himself was a little...twisted. It was a desert, much like Tartarus with wheat coloured sand and a single oasis that held clumps of grass and a palm tree. The most prevalent feature though, other than the sand were strange rocks that weren't really rocks at all. They were speakers and at the moment, Rage Against the Machine was blasting full force from every single one of them.

Not that Thanatos would know the band, to her it was just god awful noise.

"Tyr, turn this bloody thing off!" For an agonising moment the music continued, but then it shut off. Silence almost literally flooded her ears. Thank goodness he was far away from Tartarus...the only Incarnate anywhere near him was Apathy for obvious reasons.

"Lo, Master!" The Incarnate of Famine was, to the other Incarnates, like that friend of yours that wasn't really a friend but wouldn't get the hint to leave you alone. Or, to be more accurate, they couldn't afford to drive him off. The universe had deemed him necessary so Immortal he stayed. He was wearing modern mortal clothing, tight jeans and shirt with a thick gold medallion hanging around his neck. Deeply tanned skin with spiked dark brown hair, he could have almost passed for nothing but normal if it weren't for his empty eye sockets. Headphones were hanging along with the necklace and she noticed an electric guitar right behind him.

"I need help."

His eyebrows shot up. "Wow, that was blunt."

"It's Harry."

"And?" His eyebrows were showing no signs of coming back down.

"He tried to claim Death from me."

"So? He's your Chosen right, ain't that how it works?" He twitched his hand and the guitar flew into it. "Oldie gets tired of forever, picks some poor son of a bitch, trains them, gets them to rely on 'em and then BAM!" He strummed a harsh note. "You toss the fucker into the cesspool of you wanted out of." He strummed another one. "He feels a pull towards his Right, you must have gotten far training OR!" He held up a finger dramatically. "You did something stupid."

Thanatos' blue eyes flashed gold angrily. "It is _not _stupid."

His strumming got faster as he leaned away from her livid face. "O...K...so it's not stupid. Unplanned, then?"

"Very," she admitted and watched Tyr's face scrunch up in thought.

"Harry important to you?"

"Yes, I may have most control over it but I need you to convince Plague to go along with this."

He suddenly stopped playing. "I meant important to you, not your damn plan."

Thana fought with herself for several seconds over this question. Harry was important in order to reach Eternity, that was a given. But important to her personally...? "No."

"Bullshit."

Death's Incarnate blinked in shock. "Beg pardon?"

"I said bullshit." Tyr repeated dryly. "A little birdie told me that ain't true. So until you can stop lying, I ain't helping."

A sudden anger swept through her. Death was going to kill Harry, did he not understand!? A sudden vision flashed before her eyes, of Harry twisting in pain, screaming with red tears streaming down his face...and then going limp..."Tyr...you can't understand..."

He stuck his index fingers into his ears. "I don't think you heard me! That's fucking bullshit." A wide manic grin spread on his face. "Fucking bullshit! Fucking bullshit! Fucking. Bull. Fucking. Shit! Understand me!?" Thana stopped trying to talk and he dropped his arms. "I'm new enough, Thana." he continued softly. "Human enough to recognize when someone is lying to themselves but damn if you aren't doing a good job of it!" He slapped his guitar at the end and began to roar with laughter, unaware or uncaring of the single tear that fell to the yellow sand below.

* * *

Harry just glared at the wall as another wave of pain swept over him, Palquenta sighing in what seemed to be genuine concern.

"Being alone is the worst feeling in the universe...Harry." His eyes widened. "Is Thana worth this?"

The boy just clenched his fists and didn't answer.

* * *

_That scene kept playing in her mind, of Death finally overcoming whatever protections Fate had on him and Always' lingering touch, of Harry actually dying permanently. Screaming, begging with wide eyes and then slumping...like he fell asleep as his body gave up...she was unsure what worried her the most. Seeing those green eyes devoid of life? Or the fact that he was begging and she wasn't there..._

New Incarnate: Incarnate of Famine

Tyr was picked up from Iceland around the time of the French Revolution, making him the youngest of all the Incarnates. An orphan at the time, he used his adaptability to blend in with mortals, still human enough to not be reprimanded for it. He answers to Death Incarnate along with War and Plague (unknown). His Realm is called Nifilim and is the smallest Realm. Artifacts: The Oasis, the Hungering Medallion and Eden's Horn.

Nothing much to say...review!

* * *


	16. Not My Thoughts

**_I encourage reviews of any type._**

**A/N: I hope you all had a fun Independence Day weekend, I know I did! But without further ado:**

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"If you were to take a look around you, what would you see? A place filled to the brim with limitations. These Realms have boundaries, our own abilities have peaks, the mortals are restrained by their own disgustingly short life span, things break, they fail. None of us can ever touch, can ever truly grasp what Everything is because when we get close, we trip over our flaws. Listen to me, don't I sound so fatalistic? I see the dreams, hopes and ambitions of every living thing, their desires, you would be surprised how close to the limit some of them can get. You want more, you are not the only one. I won't pretend to understand. Hate? Such a strong word, even stronger emotion, it'll get you far Thanatos. But never far enough alone..." - The Incarnate of Desire, Adi-Mailagu_

* * *

Looking back on it, maybe it wasn't the best idea Harry could have come up with.

It wasn't as if he doubted his --_are they friends now?_ -- but it took a half hour of arguing for him to realize that both Malfoy and Hermione were like weeds, there just when you don't want them and it would take far more trouble than it was worth to remove them. He hadn't wanted the Slytherin house or the mud/pureblood girl to be worried when Quirrel resorted to stabbing him in broad daylight or something, but now they had taken it upon themselves to...research.

It made no sense to him --_what did research have to do with anything-- _but hey, he tried to stop them before.

"Alright, we have_ here,"_ Hermione tossed a tattered and worn issue of the Prophet onto Harry's head as he lay in his bunk, reading up on potions. "That someone broke into Gringotts a while ago."

"Which should be impossible," Malfoy pointed out as Harry ripped the parchment off. "The goblins were rather upset about that."

"And Hagrid?" The girl asked pointedly, hands on her hips. "Did he have anything to say about the unicorns?" At first, Harry had been appalled to discover exactly how much he missed while he was "aloof and distant" from the rest of Hogwarts but then he realised that he had a damn good reason.

_--Thana--_

And all the junk that was coming with it.

"Did he ever!" Malfoy crowed triumphantly from his position on Nott's bed. "I, well I _subtly_ suggested that he wasn't much use here at Hogwarts, being the half-breed he is anyhow and he sung like a bird!" Here the blond's face twisted up in an expression of what was most likely Hagrid's unbridled fury. "Now you see 'ere! I been trusted with the 'ou-Know-Wot and Fluffy guardin' the-" Malfoy dropped the expression. "And then he stopped, the oaf, and wouldn't tell me anymore. He didn't know anything about the unicorns though."

Harry peered over the top of his book. "_Fluffy?"_ he asked incredulously which earned him another paper to the face.

"Honestly, Harry, we are trying to save your life here! Concentrate!" Hermione's pale hazel eyes bored into him. "Quirrel might come after you, but if so why hasn't he attacked you before? He's up to something and we need to find out what!"

"The You-Know-What," Harry muttered and didn't duck fast enough. This time, it was Goyle's smelly socks. "Gross!"

"Actually, Hermione, "Malfoy stopped her from throwing something else at Harry's smirk. "He might have a point, what is the You-Know-What?" According to the Slytherin Prince, calling her 'Granger' was insulting since it was a muggle name. Hermione was just the type of weird name that no wizard would think twice about, so he insisted on calling her that in honour of her 'true heritage.' It hurt her, Harry could tell, but she carried on in true Gryffindor fashion.

"Could the Headmaster have given him something during the year?" The witch offered hesitantly. She and Malfoy weren't exactly bosom buddies, after all, she tolerated his presence because of Harry. "Maybe the third corridor..."

"The half-breed can't do magic, Father told me his wand was snapped on expulsion, " the only true pureblood in the room stated. "Do you really think he would be in charge of something that causes a 'painful death?' A lackey mission of some sort perhaps..."

Hermione visibly bristled at Malfoy's dismissal of Hagrid but held her tongue. Barely. Harry flipped a page to the Dreamless Sleep potion, looking at the ingredients in boredom. "Was anything stolen from Gringotts?"

Both of his friends looked at him, then at each other.

"No..." Hermione started, snatching up the article again. "Nothing."

"So, something was there that the thief wanted but it was gone when he got to it," Harry flipped another page but his mind was racing. What if Voldmort really wasn't after him? --_And if Hermione was right--_ What if there was something else in the school that he wanted? What could Quirrel help him get...the black-haired boy wasn't naive enough to think that the "Dark Lord" would spare any students that just happened to be in the way. Like with the troll...Quirrel said it was in the dungeons.

Harry sat up, realising something.

But it wasn't...--_a distraction--_

_And I'm afraid the third corridor is off limits to anyone who doesn't wish to suffer a painful death, _the Headmaster's voice echoed.

And the girl's bathroom was no where near the third floor. That idea of a distraction, was looking more and more likely.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice called and he looked up. He himself was not likely to kick the bucket anytime soon but his friends were vulnerable. And stubborn. To tell or not to tell...

"Spill, Potter!"

"The third corridor holds something important right?" Slow nods. "Well, why don't we mosey on by and take a look?"

That caused an argument, Malfoy all for sneaking around the castle in the dead of night, risking life and limb like some Gryffindor but Hermione was on the side of authority knows best, and if the point was to protect Harry from being murdered, getting all three of them killed would not be helpful. Harry just stayed out of it, sighing to himself. They were arguing like _-- like what, children? --_ and just listening to them was giving him a headache.

Merlin, he felt so...--_old--_ hearing them argue. Harry didn't have to worry about his own safety, most of the time, but here they were acting as if he was made of glass. The argument had degenerated into insults and name calling, Malfoy's preferred method of debate but Hermione was holding up well. It was all so --_trivial--_ really.

His friends still had a lot to learn about how the universe worked.

Ignoring them, he turned back to his book but a stray thought made him frown. _Since when did I use the term 'universe'?_

* * *

_"What is it about her...Harry, that allows her to get away with abandoning you like that?"_

_Harry didn't bother to dignify that with a response, far too angry with himself to even look at Pal, half-afraid of what he might see in the angel look-alike's face. Triumph, he didn't want to see, the gloating look of someone barely restraining the urge to yell 'I told you so!' Because she had told him so, warned him not to trust Thana and told him in no uncertain terms that his best friend was not above lying to him._

_And Harry hated being lied to._

_"Would you not say anything to defend her actions?"_

_"What is there to defend," Harry grunted, hurt plain in his voice. "She left." A pulse of excrutiating pain swept through him, the sound of blood roaring in his ears nearly over powered Palquenta's sigh._

_"I saw a great being in her once," she laughed bitterly. "Once a long, long time ago. She was my idol for a while, if you were there for how she was before you would see why but then..." She stopped and Harry got the feeling that she said more than she planned to. "She has a record of simply leaving when needed the most."_

_Another pulse, stronger this time, and Harry bit off a scream. Everything was out to get him today. The boy felt a hand land on his forehead but instead of cold, like Thana's was, it was burning hot, making him flinch away. That strange power was surging around Pal but this time..._

_"Death has quite a grip on you, thing." It surged into him, like hot pokers and ice at the same time. "Life agrees, just enough of the opposite to give Thana time," Pal intoned mysteriously. "Perhaps there is hope for her yet?" The pain faded into a dull ache and his scar calmed down like it had never "awoken" in the first place. Harry blinked his green eyes sluggishly._

_"Why do you keep bothering me?"_

_Palquenta removed her hand, looking down at him with such a serious expression that he began to regret asking already. "Why? Because you have the power to hurt her like I never could and trust me, you **will** want to use that power someday. I only hope you allow me the honour of seeing it. Being alone is the worst feeling in the universe...Harry...is Thana worth this?"_

_And then she was gone._

* * *

"Potter! Detention for your cheek!"

Harry whirled around from where he had been helping Crabbe with his potion, indignation on his face. He didn't do _anything_ wrong today, heck Snape hadn't even talked to him all class period. Where the bleeding hell did this 'cheek' excuse come from!? The boy's fists clenched as he stared into Snape's sneering black eyes. The greasy git, sometimes he really wanted to _--to hurt him-- _and his hand twitched towards his wand, but didn't go any farther.

"When, professor?" he bit out.

"Seven o'clock." Malfoy frowned nearby and the potions master revised the time. "Six, you better not waste my time being late, _Potter_, or I'll extend these detentions to all week. With Filch."

Harry simply turned back to a fearful looking Crabbe. "Nettles are next." Lately, Snape had been climbing to the top of Harry's List of People Who Should Dry Up and Die, just below Palquenta and the Dursleys. Every else in the school he was Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived but here, in what could have been his favorite class, he was like dung on Snape's shoe. He deserved to be treated better _--like a human being!-- _Well, at least he wasn't losing points.

An out of place smell hit Harry's nose and he looked down. Blood. He opened his fist and stared at the small cresent cuts in his palm. _Huh --when did that happen?-- I don't know but..._ Harry suddenly froze. He had just answered himself. Was he _--are we?--_ going crazy?

The Slytherin handled this in stride. _Pal probably did something to me last night, yeah, nothing to worry about. It'll go away..._

_--Will I?--_ A small voice whispered in the back of his head and Harry studiously ignored it. He could be forgiven for not knowing that a second voice was in his head til now, it did a good job of simply echoing what he usually thought. But if he started talking to himself...well, that was a slippery slope Harry was not going to slide down.

* * *

There was something unnerving about walking through a black fog and occasionally seeing copies of yourself doing the same. Thanatos would never admit it to her face, but Desire's Realm was the one place Death would rather avoid.

The copies were never perfect, one was smiling widely as she passed and another had a murderous snarl on her face. Some Copy-Thana's had pure white eyes with black hair and others had white hair with the gold eyes she couldn't seem to manifest anymore. Others were a mix and match but one, and just one, had her wild black hair but these hauntingly familiar green eyes she knew from somewhere...

"Eros welcomes you, Thanatos."

Thana nodded at the husky sound of Desire's voice, gaze following the green eyed Copy-Thana's form until it vanished into the dark smoke. "Lo, Adi."

In some strange way, Adi-Mailagu reminded Death Incarnate of Palquenta. They looked nothing alike: Desire was rather proud of her dark red hair that cascaded over one poison-coloured yellow eye in the front and down to the floor at the back. Her skin was nearly pitch black with a proud nose and haughty cheek bones. At the moment, the vain Incarnate was admiring herself in a large oval mirror with odd backwards writing across the top.

Maybe it was the livid scar that scrawled from her covered eye down to her navel that struck the similarity to Palquenta. Life Incarnate's presence always felt like she had a large scar to display.

"Empathy told me to expect you," Adi murmured, looking intently at Thana's reflection in the smoky glass of the mirror. "She seems to believe that you have a problem deciding what you want."

Thana blanched and then decided to stall. "You re-decorated this place." The ever present black fog thickened to temporarily hide Adi from view and then thinned.

"Yes. Tell me, what made you think of coming here?"

"Tyr was being an ass hole about helping me and if I ordered, Famine would come out and be an even bigger one." Thana wanted to prove, no, needed to prove that she wasn't lying to herself. Harry was Harry, did it have to get any more complicated? "You can tell me what the boy means to me."

"I can," Adi said slowly, beckoning Thana with a finger. "But I'd rather show you. Won't you look at your heart's desire?"

Suspiciously, Thana crept closer, ready to jerk away at a moment's notice. The smokiness of the glass cleared and pale blue eyes narrowed as she saw...

* * *

_A young woman was sitting on an obsidian dais lazily, wild black hair and pale blue eyes, fiddling with what looked like a white ring on a necklace. Black sand stretched in all directions only to fade into white smoke, only broken by a single river filled with black sludge. The Gate was no where in sight._

_A masculine cough echoed throughout the Realm and the woman's eyes widened. "Harry!" She sat up straight, a grin threatening to break loose. "I thought you swore never to travel by Mist again?"_

_The newcomer was dressed in silver robes with black swirl-like decorations, the exact opposite of what the woman was wearing, a sickle clasp at his throat. Messy black hair stuck out in all directions and emerald eyes sparkled with mischeivousness, annoyance and...something else..._

_"I know, but I had to see if it was a fluke," he remarked good naturedly and the woman cocked a teasing eyebrow._

_"And?"_

_"It hates me, Thana." He put a hand to his chest and stumbled around in mock agony. "I don't know what's the matter with me!" he cried out dramatically, flopping around. Thana approached him and easily caught a flailing hand._

_"Stop being such a drama queen."_

_He smiled at her and pinched the hanging ring between two fingers gently. "You should wear this, you know."_

_Pale blue eyes looked away as a flush worked its way up her face. "No, I couldn't. Not after what I-"_

_"Thana, look at me." She did so, cringing. "I don't care. I love you."_

* * *

The mirror shattered, sending hot shards of pain into Thana's face and arms. She paid no attention to it though, eyes glowing white as she snarled. "**Lies!** The boy can **never** replace him!" The powerful presence of Death was beginning to well into a visible aura, lashing out.

Adi didn't move or flinch as cuts opened up on her face. "What you saw is yours alone. It is no lie. What you wanted, at that moment, was in the mirror."

The anger died and Death's Incarnate had never looked so vulnerable. "It's not possible...Adi, that's not possible!"

The Incarnate of Desire merely turned back to her broken mirror. Death had touched it, it couldn't be repaired. "Possible or not is up to you. I told you, Thanatos, hate will never get you far enough."

* * *

"Detention" was actually a code word for "Dumbledore wants to talk to you so I'll do it in the way that will give me the most satisfaction" in Snape as Harry found out. At six sharp, he was waiting for the surly professor to give the gargoyle at the entrance the password.

"Ice mice."

The office was just how Harry remembered it from Christmas, maybe a gadget or two more in the corner and plus a ridiculously plumed orange bird. Oh, and Madam Pomfrey.

"Thank you, Severus." Even Snape's exit was the same, billowing cloak and all. "Please, Harry, have a seat."

The boy sat down, wondering and not for the first time, what the Headmaster's fascination for him was about. The old man didn't seem to be the Boy-Who-Lived fan boy but Harry was beginning to consider that being the case. No other student got called up here unless they were in trouble, and he had done nothing wrong.

Unless living when he wasn't supposed to counted.

"Harry," Dumbledore rumbled in a grandfatherly manner. "I'm afraid you haven't been telling the truth." Truth? About what? "What really happened over Christmas?"

Harry stared at him blankly. "What?"

With a nod from the old man, Pomfrey began to list off his injuries: "Malnutrition, hyperflexed ligaments, muscle tears, ruptured blood vessels, damaged eyes, cracked vertebrae...it's like you've been tortured!"

Harry continued to stare. Bugger. "Vertebrae from falling off the Tower," he pointed out and both adults frowned deeply, obviously not believing him. "As for the rest...training."

Pomfrey looked as if she would explode but Dumbledore's dismissing wave sent her bustling out of the room, huffing and cussing under her breath. "Harry, what kind of training?" the Headmaster asked kindly.

"The kind that gives people injuries when they're done." Harry said bluntly. "It'll heal." Like he told Pomfrey but noooo, had to but her nose where it didn't belong!

"Now Harry, ruptured blood vessels are a common side effect of the Cruciatus curse, an Unforgiveable and _illegal._" Dumbeldore stressed. A short staring contest ensued, with Harry's stubborn greens on one side and the grave twinkling of Dumbledore's blue on the other. Harry's scar suddenly throbbed as a tingling began in his head.

_--STAY OUT MORTAL!--_

Dumbledore rocked back in his seat, looking stunned as Harry blinked innocently. _Ignore what just happened, ignore everything..._ "Like I said," he began far too calmly as the old man collected himself. "Training."

* * *

Harry awoke suddenly for no reason.

"Lo, Potter." And his head snapped over, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Thana! Wait..." There it was, an open window with the night sky beyond it. "Another dream?"

Thana smirked, her blue eyes fading to white. "You learn quick, this isn't real but a poor imitation. But it's real enough," she said cryptically causing Harry to scowl.

"Just tell me what the hell you want!" he snapped. She blinked, looking lost for a moment, and guilt started to eat away at him. _You have the power to hurt her..._

"I just wanted to offer you a choice, really. To break the link."

His eyes widened. "You'll die!"

"No, we won't. Swear it," she said seriously. "It'll just hurt a bit...a lot...but if you keep it, you're stuck with us for life." Her eyes were now fully white and a childishly happy expression was on her face. "Part of us wants to give you this choice, so here we are. Think carefully now!"

It wasn't a hard choice but it was an unhappy one, determined by the icy bracelet on his arm. Thana had given him his first gift, even when he got nothing for her, and then replaced it when she broke it. She didn't have to, but she did. One day, he was going to find something just as special to give back.

"I'll keep it."

Thana beamed and grasping his hand, pumped it vigorously. "Good, good! You know, I'm not supposed to say this but," she leaned close and whispered into his ear: "Welcome to Immortality, Potter."

* * *

New Incarnate: Incarnate of Desire

Adi-Mailagu is the goddess of Sacrifice as according to Oceania, Fiji to be exact, lore. She is an older Incarnate, having existed before civilisation. Her Realm is called Eros, after the Greek word for physical attraction, and has changed appearances at least once. Artifacts: Mirror of Erised, Heart's Key and the Arrow.

A few questions have been answered in this chapter, me thinks, but remember, I can't answer your questions if you don't review! On second thought, review anyway!

What do we think of Thana now? And Pal?


	17. Bring to Life

**_I encourage reviews of any type._**

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"The beings of legend and of horror, the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse: War, Famine, Plague and Death. It is they that bring about the end of civilisations, of nations, of races of everything. They leave nothing in their wake but the shadow of a memory to be soon lost to the ravages of Time. It is safer, perhaps, to simply let such disasterous events be forgotten for the look of the ones who initiated it were far too familiar. Arms and legs like the rest of us, with a decidedly human appearance they would breathe life into the search for immortality and ultimately, force their hand into eradicating the rest of the world. Are they gods? I don't know but I imagine forever to be an empty existence. At least we mortals have death to escape from our many, many mistakes. Should one of the Horsemen, offer me immortality, I'm afraid I'll have to refuse such a curse and be spared from watching everything crumble..." -Myrridin Emrys aka Merlin_

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and around 150 years old, had locked himself up in his office like a pouting child.

Of course, if anyone were to verbally _compare_ the Supreme Mugwhump to a pouting child, they'd be hushed up pretty quickly but the point was, the comparison could be made, because that was exactly what he was doing: pouting. No one could get the gargoyle to allow them access, not even Snape or McGonnagall who now had to do dinner speeches, so the whole school was just waiting with baited breath for him to emerge.

Unlike the rumours floating around, Dumbledore wasn't fending off the Board of Governers for the troll incident still, coming up with an eleventh use for dragon blood, on a bowling tour, shaving off his beard or even just plain sick. He was actually thinking about one Harry J. Potter, or, to be more accurate, about how dangerous controlling the boy was becoming.

Or at least, controlling him directly.

Albus Dumbledore, as one of his lesser known accomplishments, was both a master Legilimens and a master Occulumens. Quite the feat, and at his power level it was inevitable that his magic preforms light proximity scans without his effort. And as such, he was able to tell many things about people, like if there was some truth to their words or not. He was also, by default, rather familiar with an extensive amount on Occulumency shields.

When his probe was directed at a natural Occulumens, there was some sort of dense fog that surrounded the memories and redirected intruders. It could be pierced rather easily by someone like him, or even his student of neccessity, Severus. Those who had training had walls around their mind, of mental sand bags or brick depending on how strong they were. Some even protected their mind through artifacts and those had the look of an immense shimmering dome, red for regular objects but thick and acid green for dark ones. Potions too, had the look of a virtual moat but for all of this experience there was just one problem:

Harry's mind hadn't been shielded.

Just the opposite, it was as open as a muggle-raised student who should have never even heard the word Occulumency would be. But Dumbledore hadn't even gotten a glimpse.

His probe went in fine but before he could even touch the first memory, he was violently expelled with the ringing voice screaming _Stay out mortal_ and it had disturbed him quite a bit. On top of that, the boy didn't look as if he expected that to happen, leaving him to wonder where the protection came from.

"Mortal" was a clue, but the connection was one the great wizard was hesitant to make.

Harry Potter is a wizard, like his parents before him. He is the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived (There was a slight twinge in Dumbledore's chest as he thougt this) and he survived the Killing Curse due to Lily's most altruistic sacrifice which bound the boy to her family...even if they gravitated towards a member from James' family...which it shouldn't have...

Here Dumbledore frowned. Could it be possible that the wards were just simply gone?

Once again his mind rolled back to that word, mortal, and teased around it for a minute or two.

There was nothing stronger than blood magic, but there was no explosion, no massive discharge of magic as he suspected would happen should the wards fail. There was nothing, one moment it was there and the next...gone. The wards hadn't been tampered with, simply removed and with Voldmort as a lingering spirit shard, there was no one who would, who _could_ do something like that. No one who _lived_ anyway...

They were supposed to be mere myths. Grindelwald had searched for them, certain to the very bitter end that he was close to attracting their attention. But if Harry _truly_ had gods on his side...no, he couldn't be sure they were on anyone's side.

Powerful unknown wizard or the elusive Incarnates...Dumbledore would have to tread very, very carefully.

* * *

Harry Potter was staring at a beetle.

A dead beetle.

A dead beetle he was going to bring back to life, Always help him.

But...it wasn't easy.

_Come oooonnnn...live you stupid insect!_ Harry thought grumpily. It had only been ten minutes but his temper was already spiking as the bug simply lay there on its back, legs in the air and not showing any signs of life.

Not a twitch.

He was in the dorms, skipping lunch and mournfully nibbling on his last Dweni pie with his right hand hovering over the dead beetle on the side table. The possibility of getting good enough to bring back his parents was still a major driving force, even if he got distracted from time to time, but since the only thing his Spartan "father" would tell him is 'Focus!' he figured that there would be no harm done trying it on his own.

But the results were the same, with or without instruction.

Annoyed, Harry began to concentrate on the snake bracelet, trying to see if he could have a repeat performance but a voice in his head warned him off of it as the gift grew warm.

_--We really shouldn't be using that...--_ it whispered warily and Harry huffed to himself.

_Why not?_ Ever since that wacky dream about Thana visiting him and throwing a two person welcoming party to "immortality," the voice had gotten louder and he couldn't ignore it quite so easily. He could however, unlike with Thana, restrain himself from talking out loud. Because if anyone saw him like Malfoy did at Halloween? Yeah...that would not end well.

_--We are trying to bring something back, using Death's power won't be pretty--_ Harry flinched at the word "Death" but then looked down at his bracelet curiously. Thana was Death? There was a small strangled sound in his head. _--Always help us, you didn't realise this!?--_

_I'm sorry, _Harry snapped back. _But that's kind of one of the many things she didn't tell me!_

_--Don't get snippy with **me**, idiot, we knew. You always knew but just ignored it.--_

_Stop swtiching your bloody tenses! _

There were certain things Harry never felt like thinking about. Exactly what his friend was, why the Dursleys were so afraid of magic enough to make him _wish_ he could give them something to cry about. Why Hermione was changing, that fact that he killed a living, breathing thing by driving it mad and what would happen to him, if Thana never came back. Lately, why the voice was in his head and his glimpse of Everything had been added to the list.

If Harry was just like everyone else and afraid of dying, he might have added why the bloody hell Voldemort goes out of his way to off 11 year old boys but since he wasn't he just plain didn't think about it unless he had to.

_--The bracelet is a symbol of sorts...it claims us and gives us a small conduit to her power. How else do you think we popped back after the Astronomy Tower? Pal didn't give us anything!--_

Harry didn't comment but was now eyeing the beetle in a new light. "Taking life is easier than giving it..." he murmured, echoing Thana's words, and stretched his hand out again. _Let's start small..._ Harry focused on his experiment, taking in how many joints it had, the colour of its shell, how big the mandibles were, he memorized it...and then imagined it. "Breathe."

The beetle twitched.

The voice was oddly silent as Harry reached deep inside himself again, imagining. "Move." One clawed leg shivered in the air and Harry grinned. Finally he was getting somewhere.

"Live." And that's where things started to go wrong.

The beetle warped, its shell bursting as it expanded grossly, its legs shaking like mad and Harry could almost hear...could almost hear it shrieking in agony. The boy's vision began to swim as the bug exploded and he stumbled back, feeling like he had been dunked in warm deep water. _What happened...?_

_--Too much and not enough. You're still recovering from that girl, you only have so much life to give.-- _A beat of silence as Harry sunk to the floor, edges of his sight darkening. _--If not for immortality...we would be dead.-- _Harry felt his head hit the floor.

Black.

* * *

_"Where are we?" It greatly resembled the Mists, where ever here was, except that instead of white smoke, it was grey. Thick curling wisps of it floated by, caressing Harry and the oldly familiar man standing across from him, wearing silver robes decorated with black swirling patterns._

_--Somewhere in our Realm, by the looks of it. Don't you recognise the place?--_

_Harry looked around, already knowing that he wouldn't see anything distinct. "Not really..who are you?" The boy felt it to be a relevant question._

_--The voice in your head-- the man pointed out. --You don't recognise me either?--_

_"No."_

_The man slumped. --Well, it was worth a shot...-- and then straightened. --In a way, I'm you. In another, I'm not. Coexisting, yet seperate--_

_Harry blinked slowly. "Okay..."_

_--I don't really have much to say while you are here except: Don't die, please? I don't wanna have to find someone else!--_

_"Someone else for what!" Harry snapped but the fog lightened to a blinding white, forcing him to open his eyes..._

* * *

Harry wasn't sure if he was happy or annoyed that he woke up still on the floor in the dorms and not in the Hospital Wing. The beds there were comfortable but he really didn't want to deal with Pomfrey. Here, the floor was cold and his tail bone hurt but at least he was alone. He had dreamed while he was out, he was sure of it, but _of what_...

He tilted his head to the right and then back, opting to simply complete the process of forgetting it.

He turned to look at the side table and blanched. It was covered in bug juice. The only morbid thing left, was a completely intact head and Harry swore off trying to bring back people for a long, long time.

Malfoy then burst into the room, panting with a healthy flush on his pale face and grinning widely. "I just got detention with Hagrid."

Risking anothing glance at the bug remains, Harry turned his body so the other boy couldn't see it, plastering a sly smile on his face.

"Excellent!"

* * *

"And your answer is, Master?" Thanatos turned her head to see Tyr and Kring standing behind her, Famine Incarnate with an uncharacteristically solemn smile on his face. "Have you discovered your lie?"

Death Incarnate lowered her head to stare at the black sand beneath her and then out over her River with something like sorrow on her face. "I don't want him to die," she whispered and frowned as she recalled Adi's last words before Thana fled the Realm.

_You want to reach Eternity at any cost, but will you be happy once you get there? Could you ever forgive yourself if Eternity's key was his death?_

She tilted her head to the right and sighed. "Ok, I _really_ don't want him to die, even if killing him meant I get what I want." Tilting her head back, she gave Tyr a sour look. "Convinced yet?"

The youngest Incarnate smiled a bit happier and strummed an air guitar. "Of course, Master! But...Plague will be a lot harder to convince..." Kring nodded stoically, never one to talk without his "Goddess" speaking to him first. "You can try though..." Thana nodded and with a moment of concentration, Jumped to Helheim.

Coming out of a "Jump" into Plague's Realm was not pleasant simply because Plague tried her best to make everything about her Realm _un_pleasant. It had a coldness to it that even Immortals could feel and the "air" had the taste of moldy humidity. The ground was decayed earth with all manners of creepy crawlies slithing about underfoot, wallowing in the ever present smell of a rotting carcass. Deep red clouds boiled above and sulphurus clouds of yellow was belched up every now and then but the most negative feature about the Realm was the Plague Incarnate herself.

It was an odd sight: Tawny haired woman in pure white robes, painting on a canvas daintily in the middle of the almost hellish surroundings. The only female Incarnate to have short hair, she actually looked rather plain but once she opened her mouth...

"Heya, Boss." Plague's head swiveled slowly around to observe her counterparts, Famine and War, as well as their authority figure, Death. Curiosity flickered in her red eyes when she saw the rather mortal looking body Death had on, but she didn't comment on it. "I haven't seen you since Atlantis! Do we get to utterly _crush _a civilisation again?"

Thana shifted nervously from right to left foot and back. Quite suddenly, this didn't seem like a good idea. "Death is...killing someone, Hel."

Hel lifted an eyebrow before scoffing. "And?"

"Aaaaannnd," Thana drew out childishly. "I don't want him to die, obviously."

Hel's red eyes widened in disbelief before a harsh bark escaped her. "You, Death, actually care what happens to a _mortal_ of all things? Let him die! You would have done so before!" Then her eyes narrowed as she hissed, "You are _not_ the Death I know."

Thana just whirled on Tyr who tried to look innocent. "I _told_ you this wouldn't work! I've changed to much, Famine!"

"Oh, I could be convinced..." Hel's sickly sweet tone sent shivers up Thana's spine as she turned back around to Plague's smiling face. "I can think of a way to change my mind..."

"What!?"

"Beg." That stopped all three Incarnates short, staring at Hel in something close to shock but also interchangeable with horror. Power-wise, Death was second to none and in their heirarchy, Plague was on the bottom rung. Thana couldn't just kill her for the insult, without a Chosen that void could collapse the universe, but she could make her suffer.

Thana recovered first, dropping her voice to a soft hiss as her eyes flashed a brilliant white. _"What. Did. You. Ssssay!" _Death's power was spilling over again, lashing about like hundreds of tiny barbed whips, aching for release.

"You heard me!" Hel laughed, red eyes twinkling in amusement. "You want this mortal to live?" She extended an arm, fist clenched and then slowly, deliberately pointed one sole finger to the ground. "You're going to have to get to your knees and _beg me for his pathetic existence."_

Death's Incarnate growled in her throat as Hel giggled.

"Do we have a deal, _Boss?_"

* * *

New Incarnate: Incarnate of Plague

Hel is the Norse goddess of the Inglorious Dead and was the daughter of the trickster Loki and the evil giantess Angrboda. An older Incarnate, having existed before civilisation. She shares a certain closeness with the Incarnate of Famine, Tyr. Her Realm is called Helheim after herself and is also a rather open Realm for Seers. Artifacts: The Flame, the Bronze Serpent and the Leprous Orb.

And unofficially official...she can out-bitch Thanatos (now and before) and Palquenta...easy.

A/N: And here we have an excellent example of one Incarnate who definitely does not want to make things easy for Thana. What do you guys think, should she beg or tell Plague 'fuck off?' Review!


	18. The Middle Ground

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* * *

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I encourage reviews of any type.

**_A/N: _**Just to let you know Anonymous Giovanni, that this is my story. The original Death Incarnate was male and yes Thanatos is a male Greek name but I doubt the Greek actually got close enough to the god of death in order to see his gender, even in myths "he" is simply overshadowed by Hades because death likes privacy. Making Thanatos female does not "fail" me it just means that in legends not connected to HP in any way have death personified as male. I too, did my homework and I like her nickname Thana. I personally think the fickle nature of death to be more feminine but hey, that's just me.

Sorry about the rant folks.

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"By order of the Ministry of Magical Britain, the following creatures are classified as Dark and are therefore subject to close scrutiny: Vampires, vampyres, werewolves, giants, fairies and nymphs of all categories. The following creatures are classified as Neutral and non-human: elves of all categories, centaurs, goblins, fawns, elementals, brownies and gnomes. Under certain circumstances the following magus can be classified as a Dark creature and treated accordingly: Empathiomagus, full Metamorphmagus and true Necromancers. The circumstances are thus: if the Empathiomagus does not have the control necessary to keep emotions out of spell casting; if the Metamorphmagus does not prove themselves a benefit to society; if the true Necromancer is accused of bringing a full-blooded human back to life. Details of this decree can be found in section 48c of the Classification of Societal Dangers security act."_

* * *

_Beg me._ The words bounced around in Thana's head, echoing over and over again, mocking. If she wanted Plague's help in reigning the Void in, she would have to _beg_. Death, begging! But if she wanted Harry to continue existing, she would have to do it.

For a moment, her eyes dropped to study the ground.

Physically, it wouldn't be hard at all. Her knees were perfectly capable of bending and she had a virtual storm of painful emotions that she could strain through her voice to be convincing. Just thinking of Harry dying, seeing his little soul being swept away by the black sludge of her River to Judgment should do the trick depending on how long Plague wanted her to plead for the boy's life. Intellectually, she acknowledged that perhaps being a good sport about it was the best way to not only get Plague's cooperation, but Tyr's as well. She never had to worry about Kring's loyalty but it couldn't hurt. Emotionally, though, it was impossible.

Thanatos had never been so angry in her entire existence.

"I dare you," she said cooly. "To tell me that again." Hel gasped and weakly tried to pry Thana's hand off her throat as Death's Incarnate blinked. She was holding Plague up, one hand clamped on her windpipe and slowly squeezing, when did that happen? Death was literally roaring in her head, fuzzying up her thought processes and creating wild surges of energy that periodically exploded somthing. If Thana could have seen herself, she might have been pleasantly surprised to see her trademark golden eyes and their sickle pupils once again, practically glowing with anger.

"Master..." Tyr stepped forward, but the sudden explosion near his right foot sent him scurrying back behind Kring.

Thana didn't even look at him. "Stay out of this. Well, Plague? Do you have any last words?"

As if it was like some kind of switch Hel simply stopped struggling and Thana just noticed that it wasn't fear reflected in those red eyes, but a strange satisfaction. "Does...it..." she rasped and Thana shook her, tightening her grip even more. It would be so easy, to just Jump back to the Void and throw her in. She had Death running through her veins, she wouldn't die immediately, but it would take several centuries and that would be the point of it.

"Does what." Thana ground out, watching in morbid curiosity as Hel began to smile.

"Does it feel good to dirty your hands again, Death?" she asked innocently and Thana dropped her as if Plague Incarnate was Never itself. _Would Harry hate me?_ was the sudden thought. _If he knew that I would kill over an insult, that I cared less about his parents just because they were mortals, would he hate me? _And then came the rationalising she had been doing more of lately. _He need never know..._Her heart felt a pang and the damage was done.

She turned away.

"Forget it."

Tyr peered around Kring's side cautiously to look at the crumpled form of Hel and then to Thanatos' retreating back. "Master?" he nearly whimpered. "Why-"

Thana swiftly turned, looking positively demonic with her glowing gold eyes and her voice came out with Death's thousand-voice rasp underlining it, **_Don't. You. Question. Me!_** Tyr ducked back as his Master seemed to visibly try to calm herself, golden eyes flickering to a light blue and back. "Plague. Has. Three days...to pick a Chosen...before I destroy her and the **_universe with it!"_** Thana roared then turned back around and stepped forward...

Right into Empathy's resounding back handed bitch slap.

All eyes (and one pair of empty eye sockets) widened.

"Ouch." Apathy's voice stated dully from behind Empathy as Thana fell on her ass, holding her right cheek in surprise. "That had to hurt." Death stilled in shock.

Empathy herself had a look of dawning horror on her face as she stared at her still outstretched hand. For a moment, nobody moved as Tyr began praying to Always, absently strumming an air guitar as he muttered to himself. Tyr got to the "and whatever the holy FUCK Empathy was thinking, don't punish us for it" part when Thana blinked owlishly.

"Yin?" Thana mumbled, bottom lip quivering. Empathy nodded, hand still in that damning position. "What was that for?"

"Yeah, Emp, what was it for anyway?" Apathy drawled in her high pitched voice, causing Kuan Yin to twitch.

"Heptet, kindly shut your mouth and keep it shut." Thana still looked as if she couldn't believe someone had actually hit her. Sure, she hit Harry over the head a couple of times...a lot of times...but never hard enough to knock a person to the floor. And especially not on his face! Thana expected to feel angry again, hurt, betrayed or something but she still hadn't gotten over the shock yet. Kind and caring Empathy, who never raised her voice at anyone, had slapped her. Thana rubbed her cheek thoughtfully. And it hurt.

Plague was also staring, not able to believe it either. Even though Kuan Yin was higher up on the ladder, Hel had always thought her far too soft and conservative to do anything worth while but now she had to shift her opinions. Empathy hit Boss...that counted as worth while.

Kring simply thought it a good time to leave with Tyr before Thana regained her senses and killed them all.

Yin's mouth opened and closed a few times. "Thana..." she began warily but then seemed to gather herself. "I told you to keep a lid on your temper," she finished sternly. "If the Realms start exploding, reign it in or..." Yin paused. Or what? Thana was nothing like her own, albeit long gone, mortal children...even if she acted like them. "Or I'll ground you," she finished lamely.

Apathy, standing at 4'3" tall with carrot coloured pigtails, orange eyes, reptilian pupils and a face that had a decent amount of baby fat, tilted her head upwards. "Oooo...scary," and then gave Empathy a flat stare. "Especially to Death Incarnate of all beings." Yin coloured, embarrassed, wondering why she felt the need to bring Apathy along. The girl never grew up but had enough sarcasm for all of them, for forever and had the cynicism of a man who had been castrated with a rusty spoon.

As well as the annoying need to point out the obvious.

As Empathy and Apathy began to bicker, the norm for all Opposites, Thana was still on the ground but thinking deeply. She cared about Harry, but not enough to lower herself. She still felt no particular need to save mortal lives, not anymore, but she had no problem being nearby as the boy did. She hated the boy, hated the way he was confusing her, hated how he made her wish she was mortal again but at the same time didn't want him to die or worse, tell her to go away. There was what she saw in that mirror and then the sheer impossibility of it. What a strange place this middle ground was...

Farther away and out of earshot, a hand helped Plague up from the ground, a hand that led to Life Incarnate's slender arm.

"Believe me now?" she murmured as Hel dusted herself off. "She is not the same as she once was."

_She has changed_ Plague's baritone and gravelly voice spoke from Hel's mouth. _But we wish not to follow in her footsteps and do the same, even if we have to tear her from her throne ourselves._

"Always will help her," Pal pointed out, brow furrowing as Plague glanced over to where Thana was just getting to her feet.

_But Never will not._

Pal flinched violently. "Don't say that name, what are you, daft!?" In answer, Plague simply walked back to her abandoned painting, sat down on the chair and began to paint again with quick, angry strokes. Pal shifted in unease. "I don't..." looking away for a moment, she gathered her thoughts. "I don't want to hurt the boy."

The sudden bark of laughter made Pal jump. "Double crossing already, hmm? Just remember what it is that you want." A meaningful jerk back to where Empathy was apologising profusely to Thana, who was laughing.

The angelic face of Life Incarnate grew worried and unsure. "But..."

"Do not worry." Hel's red eyes flashed black. _It will all be as it should in the end._

Palquenta let out a gasp as the Weaver faded into sight beside them, purple hair and holding that loom which was now faded and worn looking instead of pristine, and spoke only three words: "Indeed, it will."

* * *

The Hogwarts school motto was 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon.' It made sense since not only would trying to tickle a dragon with all those scales be a nightmare but once it was awake you were little more than a snack and your tickling endeavor would be permanently postponed. But in Harry's opinion, sometimes you had to give the giant lizard a swift kick in the ribs. Wearing flame retardant clothing if possible. Being immortal was better because Hogwarts was in an uproar.

Draco Malfoy didn't come back from his detention last night.

And neither did Hagrid.

According to Filch's testimony since he was the one who saw them last, they were heading out in the Forbidden Forest in order to investigate the rise of unicorn death's for the young Malfoy's detention. It had been going on for quite some time and the half-giant himself had even carried a little investigation with some fifth years some time back but found nothing. Draco had become fascinated ("practly pissing his too fine trousers" was the term Filch used, not at all fond of the blond boy) and had basically demanded to see them as well.

Up until then it had gone according to the plan Hermione had written up, but knowing Malfoy and his opinion of Hagrid, he probably thought himself above orders again and this time, there was no one to pull him out of deep shit.

Hagrid had probably tried, but that was most likely also the reason he was missing as well.

And that was why Harry Potter was hitching up his britches, fully prepared to drag them back to school, by their ankles if he had too, dead or alive. The boy's plan was this: Use invisibility cloak to sneak out to the Forest. Find them. Bring them back.

And naturally, Hermione wasn't impressed.

"Don't be such an idiot, Harry!" the girl was nearly tearing her silver-lined hair out in frustration. "Mrs. Norris can still smell you and even if you do get out there, you know no offensive spells except _Incendio!_"

Harry just barely managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "I don't need offensive spells." He said for what must have been the hundreth time. Hermione's answering scream of rage was rather impressive. It was louder than the one that got them thrown out of the library by Pince.

_--Look, just show her already.-- _

Harry twitched and then scowled to 'himself.' _I'm not jumping off the Tower again and I'd rather not try a butter knife. Besides, don't you think it might, oh I don't know...TRAUMATIZE HER FOR LIFE?_

There was a moment of silence.

_--No need to shout, I am right flippin HERE you know.--_

This time Harry did roll his eyes. _And so I dodge the question. HE dodges it, him, him, HIM not me. Geez... _"Look, Hermione, I'm serious about the not needing anything...thing, alright!"

_--Lie. We're Slytherin, come up with a good one.--_

It was solid advice, so Harry lied. "Hermione...I gues this counts as 'later' so I'll tell you..." He took a deep breath and launched right into it. "I'm a true necromancer, always have been. I don't know what happened when I got rid of the Dark Lord, but I survived the Killing curse..." he trailed off and looked the stunned girl in the eye. "I can't die."

"The troll...?" she asked weakly and Harry nodded.

"Wasn't worried about dying a bit, cause I can't. I broke my neck when I fell off the Tower, Hermione, I lied about the cushioning charm, sorry." Inwardly, he asked, _Do we even need to rely on Thana anymore?_

_--Wanna find out? I know a good Tower...--_

_No thanks!_

With a loud huff, Hermione gave her consent but there was a wild gleam in her eye that told the Slytherin Potter that she wasn't handling the revelation that the Boy-Who-Lived couldn't _die_ very well, just hiding it to explode out later. Harry shrugged, uncaring as long as he wasn't in the same room she exploded in.

* * *

Harry ran out of the castle at midnight, invisible, at full tilt and highly embarrassed.

Kicking Mrs. Norris into the wall when she found him wasn't subtle, wasn't Slytherin. At all. But damn if it wasn't satisfying!

The Forbiddin Forest was even scarier at night and with good reason, Harry couldn't see a ruddy thing with his glasses on but when he took them off...the place came alive like something out of a horror film. It was almost as if he was seeing ghosts, except these phantasmal wisps were either featureless or had their faces locked in one expression of grostesque terror. Everything moved, it seemed. Some trees were trees, and some weren't and he tripped over so bloody many roots that he was beginning to consider setting fire to the place with Incendio once he found Malfoy and Hagrid.

One thing he did note though, was that there were these strange skeletal looking horses that he couldn't see with his glasses on but could without and as he passed, he could have sworn that they bowed.

He reached a small clearing, his father's cloak still firmly on, when he felt a small tug at his right arm. The bracelet was moving.

_--Follow it--_ Feeling like an idiot, Harry raised his arm and held it in front of him like he expected to run face first into a tree, and took a step to the right. The bracelet tugged again and Harry took another step. Then it tugged forward incesstantly and the boy took off running.

But after about five minutes, it led him straight to the centaurs.

Horsey bodies were standing in a circle, human torsos turned to regard the boy at the edge of their clearing as Harry fidgeted. They had crossbows...and they didn't look friendly.

"Er...sorry?" the boy offered and watched in dismay as one of them, with a black furred horse half, unslung the aforementioned bow from his back. _Shit._

_--Shit--_

And there is was, a burst of that strange power that turned his blood to ice and made it flow backwards, from the center of the centaur ring. The hostile one turned his head and nodded at some unseen thing and then the centaurs scattered, vanishing back into the Forest. And there was an unconscious Draco Malfoy, and Hagrid lying on the ground.

As well as some weird blind guy.

At least, Harry thought he was blind, why else would he have bandages covering his eyes?

"Come, come! I never knew another would come down, your Realm get too boring?" the man said cheerily and Harry blinked in confusion.

"I don't...have a Realm..."

The man's smile froze. "No? How peculiar..." a pregnant silence followed until he cleared his throat. "Forgive me then, in truth, I thought you another Incarnate. You have the feel of one...would you come closer?"

Harry inched forwards towards the man wearing flourescent orange robes with golden buckles attaching nothing, grey bandages firmly covering the top half of his face and causing his white hair to stick up. He looked weird...he could be Dumbledore's younger half brother or something with that fashion sense. The man reached out when Harry was just two feet away, and touched his face. The guy was blind, which was the only reason Harry just jumped and didn't stomp his groin.

"Ah yes...almost but not quite one of us..." One hand strayed to the snake bracelet, which went ice cold at the foreign touch. "I recognise Thanatos' work, so you are her Chosen?" He smiled even more warmly at that.

_Thana...tos?_ This time the voice in his head didn't comment. "What's this Chosen thing?"

The smile froze once again and the unknown man seemed to get a bit flustered, face turning red. "Oh my, you mean she...? No, she couldn't have and yet...immortal without being designated? My, in truth, that is rather..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Rather _reckless_ of her..." his hands brushed over Harry's sickle scar. "Very reckless..."

Harry shivered at the low tone the man's voice had taken. _Reckless..._

"So tell me!" He retracted his hands and set them gentlemanly on his lap and Harry just realised that he was floating in mid air. "What brings a young immortal out to these woods?" The boy simply pointed at the still out cold missing persons. "Oh! Yes, that should do it...would you allow me to help you? It's not safe for you to be out here long, after all, especially for you..."

Harry simply shunted the warning to the back burner. He had too much to think about already, like how the guy knew where he was pointing. "If you could help carry Hagrid to Pomfrey's..."

"Where is that?"

"Hospital Wing...Hogwarts, you know, the castle _right_ outside?" Harry said sarcastically and was a bit put off when the man just smiled in response.

"Their names?"

"Draco Malfoy..." Harry said uneasily, wondering why that mattered. "And Rubeus Hagrid?"

The man lifted his left hand and intoned, "Truth declares the truth be thus: Draco Malfoy and Rubeus Hagrid are in seperate beds in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts, under the care of Pomfrey." The people in question then vanished. Harry blinked in shock. Not even the grass looked disturbed, like nothing had been there in the first place!

"How'd you do that!"

The man chuckled. "As I am the Incarnate of Truth, I have some sway over what truth actually is, young immortal. I simply," he waved his hand. "Bent the truth a bit and the universe answered. Quite marvelous, really. They are right where you want them, you have no need to be here any longer. I shall send you back."

The man raised his hand again but Harry blurted out, "Wait! Why are you here?" Thinking Slytherin, this was a weird coincedence and for some reason he doubted the guy left because his Realm got boring.

Truth paused and smiled sadly. "I am surveying...the battle field, young immortal. In truth, nothing more, nothing less."

* * *

New Incarnates:

Incarnate of Apathy: Heptet is the Egyptian goddess of Snakes and Peace. She was offered immortality while studying to be a High Priestess of Ra in Egypt and took the chance, and chose her own name which flies in the face of Egyptian tradition. Her Realm has not yet been visited.

Incarnate of Truth, name unknown, his Realm has not yet been visited.

Ok, remember when I said there was five chapter left? Yeah...I lied apparently, but we are getting close to the final Voldie/Harry showdown. Remember to ask questions if you want answers!


	19. No Questions Asked

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate  
**

_"The simple matter is this: when a person is dead, they are gone. Both figuratively and literally, there is no way to bring them back as they were. Not even with true necromancy. But we can make a close copy, the better you know the person, the better the copy is and the more likely you are to succeed. It is for this reason that true necromancers aren't as widely known as Salazar's proteges, because while they can deal with rotting corpses by the hundreds, we emphasise quality over quantity. Not to say that quantity is impossible, just unwieldly. For all beginning true necromancers, my instructions are this: learn with a recently deceased beloved pet first. Don't do anything foolish, I hope those with the Talent will never sink low enough to kill for their studies, but gradually work your way up. It may take decades and for some, centuries like I did. If you don't wish to be exploited, hide the Talent and for Merlin's sake should you ever resurrect a human make sure 'mortal' is firm in your mind! I doubt any have the power to pull off such a mistake, but I imagine that the result would be most spectactular...when Death wipes you off the face of the earth." Excerpt from Notes on True Necromancy by Helga Sarah Hufflepuff_

* * *

_If there was one thing that Truth would give anything and Everything to change, it would be the fact that he, being Truth, couldn't lie. Even misdirection and half-truths made him extremely uncomfortable since they literally went against everything he stood for. Once he opened his mouth, he was committed and that was something he wished he could alter._

_But he had never wished harder than when he looked back on the day he told a small girl, not quite in her teens and no where near mature enough to handle the Throne she would soon be given, what Eternity was._

_It had been a gate, that looked nothing like a gate but rather a giant pearl with a single silver slab with a hand imprint on it. Thanatos had looked at it with wide eyed wonder, sighing almost dreamily. "It's beautiful...but," she then wrinkled her nose. "What is it?"_

_"That is Eternity," he had offered, ever the fool. "Everything that is, was and ever will be. The base of all things."_

_The girl's face took on a slightly predatory expression. "Everything...this is access to Everything..." she looked up at him then, amused smile on her lips and pale blue eyes glinting coldly. "And no one knows what it does...except for you, of course."_

_"Do I?" Perhaps, if he had looked father into the Future back then, seen more than just the image of her standing in front of the gate, it might have turned down a different path. "What makes you say that?"_

_"I could spout crap all day about what it does," Thanatos said bluntly. "But there is only one truth and since you are, well, Truth, you gotta know."_

_He had considered simply keeping his mouth shut but his fondness for the girl over ruled his good sense, insisting that she would never abuse **this** particular Truth. She had a good heart and a powerful willingness to help others, it would be fine...he was an idiot..."It can change the Weave, but," he had hoped that the extra and nigh impossible precaution would disuade her from it. "As you can see, in truth, you need the key."_

_The girl had given the hand print a cursory glance and then rolled her shoulders lazily. From the outside, it looked as if she had just dismissed the whole thing entirely. "Whatever, can we go to your Realm now? I'm bored."_

_He had laughed with her then but laughter became less common as Time passed and then down right rare. During the last millenia, he had been hard pressed to envision the Realms of the old Incarnates as anything other than tombs, silent and cold. Thanatos grew into her Throne, he was ashamed to admit, but the drastic change must have twisted her in some way._

_If he had looked farther, kept a closer eye on her, before Krun had passed on, before that girl ever became Death Incarnate, if he had only known what she had in mind ever since she laid eyes on the gate to Eternity..._

_He might have killed her._

* * *

Harry stormed into the Slytherin Commons, invisibility cloak slung over his shoulder nonchalantly despite his white-knuckled grip on it, and cursing like a sailor.

It was so easy to forget that he even had the thing on, since he didn't make a habit of ogling himself to see if he was invisible yet, but after the trek through the woods he was pretty much convinced that his father was either a cheap bastard or the thing malfunctioned. Filch was just a squib, so Harry wasn't surprised that he couldn't see through it but that half cat _thing_ that was Mrs. Norris found him easily.

Those strange horses saw him, he just knew they did.

The centaurs had reacted even though he wasn't sure if it was because he wasn't as invisible as he would have liked, or because they heard him (and he, like an idiot, apologized while invisible) and then there was Truth. For a blind guy he sure didn't seem like he had a hard time seeing...even with the bandages blocking his eyes. In short, despite his five minutes of intensive planning, Harry was feeling like a little fool and he didn't like it one bit.

Being interrogated for about a half hour over _nothing_ hadn't helped his mood any. Dumbledore had been eyeing him the whole time as if he expected Harry to snap and stab him with his own wand or something, avoiding Harry's eyes and shifting uncomfortably even as the old coot asked pointless questions. Where was he? In the Forest. Why? Get Malfoy and Hagrid. How? Father's cloak and some help. Who? I don't know, lemme sleep...

Rinse and repeat. By the end, he was seriously considering flipping out and committing homocide.

Harry marched into the boys dormitory and threw the cloak onto his bed, unconsciously softening his steps in the room so he didn't wake up the three sleeping boys. It was something like 3 in the morning, and despite appearing on Hogwarts doorstep rather than having to run back, the whole mini-adventure took far longer than he wanted it to. He was tired, he was hungry, he was irritated and no matter how comfortable Dumbledore thought his chairs were, his ass was numb.

Sleep sounded so very nice right now.

_--We should check on Malfoy--_

Harry thought about simply ignoring his rather loud conscious for about ten seconds but it didn't do him any good. The blond fell under the umbrella of 'friend' and Harry...he cherished his friends. With a loud sigh, he got up from his bed.

It was an easy trek to the Hospital Wing, the halls completely empty save for the portaits that followed the boy with their eyes. Pomfrey never locked the door, so it was a simple matter to slip in unnoticed and make his way to one of the occupied beds.

Up close, Malfoy looked awful.

His hair was still matted with sweat, some dryign reddish streaks of blood and the dirt from the Forest floor. A large purpling bruise dominated the left side of his face while the right was covered with wire thin welts. Done by some particularly whippy branches, Harry imagined, while running for his life. His fine robes were tattered and ripped at the bottom, Harry had told him that they were too long, and blood was slowly soaking through the bandage that could clearly be seen underneath a large tear.

Harry pulled up a chair, feeling strangley numb. The boy could have died out there, in the Forest, trying to keep Harry safe in his own way. And if he died, he would have died for nothing. Malfoy wasn't Hermione, it would be much harder to reveal anything to him but he supposed that maybe, in his mind, he should probably call him Draco. Even if he was an arrogant git...he kind of grew on people.

"Mal-Draco," Harry made a face. "Are you up?"

Silvery blue eyes opened but the pureblood just stared at the ceiling. "I look a lot like my father, you know," he said in monotone. "Anyone who knows pureblood traits can tell that I am a Malfoy."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Where are you going with this?"

As if he hadn't spoken, the blond continued. "My father served the Dark Lord well a while ago, one of his most loyal." Harry blinked, not at all expecting such personal and damning information. "He should have recognised me, but he didn't."

"You saw Quirrel...he was killing the unicorns!" Harry put the pieces together and almost felt ashamed of himself. Voldemort was hurt pretty badly that Halloween, that was why he was called Boy-Who-Lived and unicorn blood just happened to have astounding healing properties. _--Idiots, the both of us--_

Draco's eyes flicked over to him then back to the ceiling, looking like he was counting tiles, his thin face becoming sallow in the poor light. "He acted like some kind of animal..." An uncomfortable silence fell and Harry got the impression that Draco was thinking rather seriously about something. He was intruding.

He stood up and gave an awkward smile that was probably closer to a grimace. "Just...get better, will you?" And quickly beat a retreat, scurrying back the his dorm room like Never itself was on his heels.

_--Things are going to get interesting soon--_ His ever present companion murmured as Harry kicked off his shoes and socks. _--Interesting in a dangerous sort of way--_

_There isn't much time left in the school year, he's going to make a move soon, right?_

There was a noncommittal hum sounding in his head. _--I didn't mean him...--_

Too tired to care, Harry pulled his covers up to his chin and was out like a light.

And dreamed.

* * *

_They were standing in a circle around a round table, made of a dark grey stone, each with a single die in front of them. The dice held no numbers, but the sides alternated between a light absorbing black and a blinding white. He could recognize Thana's shadowed form, her arrogant stance stood out sharply from everyone else's. Harry found himself frowning at her from his position at the table, but not knowing why._

_**CAST YOUR CHOICE**_ _a rumble echoed throughout his body. Steeling himself, he watched as a female shaped haze holding a broken loom, stepped out of the shadows and picked up her die. She tossed it to the center and all watched it roll._

_Black._

_"I choose Never."_

_Thana was next, and cast hers without even looking at it, that familiar smirk firmly on her lips. "Always, I think..." The die landed on white. He stood there, silent, as others emerged from the shadows to pick up their dice. Kring cast white, after sneaking a glance at the black-haired, smirking woman beside him. A short haired woman with red eyes had a black throw and a young male with spiked brown hair and no eyes hesitated, looking between the Thana and the one with red eyes._

_Thana snorted. "Choose whatever, already."_

_He cast black. _

_A black woman with red hair and seductively glinting yellow eyes cast white, a black haired man with a dreamy smile on his face had white, a motherly Asian had white as well but when it came to a girl with orange hair, she just shrugged._

_"Do I look like I care?" Her die vanished into vapor._

_Palquenta then, and she too did not look at her die but instead of coming off as uncaring, she looked very uncomfortable and almost digusted. "I choose Never." Black. The blind man from the Forest, white, this rather tall woman who also had her eyes covered, white, this dark man completely shrouded in grey robes, black..._

_And then it was Harry's turn. He felt himself pick up the die and it was like touching an ice cube. He tossed it and watched in amazement as it shimmered in the air and two dice fell to the table, clacking against each other as they rolled... One black...one on white. "I chooose both and yet," the dice vanished into vapor. "none at all," his mouth said and there were gasps of astonishment and outrage._

_Thana's lips curved into a true smile. "So you choose the mortals." Her eyes flashed white. "Interesting..."_

_"I reserve the right." Harry felt his lips quirk. "After all, my...host shall we say, is an eleven year old boy. It suits me and we were all one once."_

_The reminder must have hit a nerve, because the red eyes woman drew herself up angrily. "The die have been cast, I'm leaving." Within moments, Harry and Thana were the only ones left and she had a look of almost resigned amusement on her face._

_"Breaking rules that don't exist tends to trigger tempers..." she said lightly, rolling a die around between her index finger and thumb. "A pity."_

_Harry just looked at her stonily. "You started this."_

_"What of it?"_

_"You will finish it."_

_"Have you forgotten who you are talking to? Ending things..." Some bitter emotion flashed through her blue eyes. "Is what I am good at. The casting of choices is a nice distraction but what is a squabble among Incarnates as opposed to Everything?"_

_"If you lose Harry, he won't give it to you."_

_Thana's face suddenly became devoid of any and all emotion. "Well," she said tightly. "I suppose I'll just have to never let him go, hmm?"_

* * *

_--Thanatos, you fool--_ a whisper said sadly within Harry's distracted mind. _--What are you going to do?--_ Trapped within the boy, it could only sigh. He was untrained, impatient, angered far too easily and even now was far too vulnerable to deal with the storms coming his way. It would be easy to jump ship, simply fade away until Harry forgot all about the voice in his head but it had meant what it once said.

The Incarnate of Eternity would rather not find someone else.

* * *

Elsewhere in the castle, a shadow made Quirinus Quirrel, host to Lord Voldemort, turn around sharply only to stare into glowing wine coloured eyes.

"I believe," Hel said softly. "That I can be of assisstance to you."

* * *

Alright, next chappie might take a while because it will be longer...its Voldie strikes back! And then about two more chapters until Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate is done and HP and the Breath of Life begins...


	20. No Answers Given

**_I encourage reviews of any type._**

**A/N: And as promised...**

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"A man's inability to understand the reasoning of the gods is quite nearly legendary. When something goes well, they are far more inclined to believe in themselves, in their delusional prowess, as being the reason for the good fortune. But when something goes wrong, the resulting upwards spiral of bitter emotions, negativity and the sheer amount of blame that is directed at the higher powers is astounding. We never stop to realize that perhaps there is a reason for every event in our lives, a bigger picture, a higher calling. How much does it take for people to think for themselves, to wonder if maybe those far above us are justified in every little action they take against and for us? Should Life choose to allow a deformed, or neglected, or unfortunate whelp to suffer, who are we to question it? Should Desire twist mortal perceptions, burn away logic and reasoning, degrade us to animals, who are we to question it? Should Death rip our families away from us, our friends, lovers, even our own lives, who are we to impose our feeble rules of morality on such great beings? Has it ever occured to anyone, to rejoice in the mere fact that they exist?" - Edward the Red, King of Magical Sweden 1412-1501

* * *

_

"This is rather reckless of you," Truth said simply as he stood by Oblivion's Gate. It almost looked like he was inspecting the straining chains if it hadn't been for the thick grey bandages that completely covered the upper portion of his face. The Artifact felt as if it had changed a little, but without the extensive familiarity Death had with it, no one could know exactly what was different.

Thanatos didn't seem concerned as always, laying on her dais like a self-absorbed queen, still playing absently with the die she had swiped. "Reckless? With all of the planning I've done, I wonder how you justify _reckless..._"

Truth turned his head, not enough to actually see her if his eyes had been uncovered, but enough for her to know that he was taking the conversation seriously. She almost rolled her eyes. "You and I both know that your plans have changed several times."

"Eternity has always been a wild card," Thana admitted slowly, almost whining. "I'm not surprised the boy picked up his ability to resist all prediction attempts. Plans change, but they haven't been rendered obsolete yet."

"But a war?" Truth wondered aloud. "You truly intend to die."

"Not die," she waved the die around as if it were a sword with wild, chaotic movements. "Just disappear...and change Everything in the process."

"You are not Always, you will fail." There was a silence and Truth nodded to himself, turning away from the Gate convinced that he had managed to get through to her. "This is far beyond your ability to even attempt, you are more likely to destroy Everything."

"Who says Everything doesn't deserve to be destroyed?" she teased lightly, returning to flipping the die. "Or are you just trying to scare me? "

"I'm trying to warn you!"

"I'm tired, Truth," she suddenly veered off into a solemn tangent, gaze unfocusing as she stared off beyond the edges of her Tartarus. "So very tired...you know how that feels."

The Incarnate of Truth let out a heavy sigh, scratching the side of his face thoughtfully. One Truth was virtually no different from the next, insuring that their knowledge was passed reliably through the ages. He didn't exist several millenia ago, but he certainly had the memory of doing just that. Yes...sometimes, it just became...became what? Tedious? Boring? If he ever got tired, he'd just pick a Chosen and be done with it. But Thana didn't want a replacement, did she? No, she was just the type to want more than what Always was willing to give her.

"And the boy?" was all he said.

_"Harry_..." She rolled the name off her tongue strangely, still gazing into the distance as her lips quirked into a small smile. Her fingers tightened around the die and when she opened them, instead of the original six-sided black and white, it was split into twenty-four sides: a soul sucking black, a blinding white, and a swirling grey. "Not two sides, but three...Plans change."

* * *

--_Harry--_ A whisper pulsed. _--Wake up--_

The boy in question just groaned and rolled over, even in his sleep he preferred to ignore the voice in his head.

_--HARRY!--_

"WHAT!?" Harry shot up, nearly beaning himself on the bottom of Nott's bunk, ready to tear someone in two. He was tired, damn it, and he wanted to sleep. If someone didn't point him to the fire in _the next five seconds_ heads will roll. There was a polite cough and Harry's green eyes rolled to the right, narrowing in on Nott who was currently standing in front of Goyle's bed. "Is the castle being over-run?" He snapped out and was rewarded with Nott shifting uneasily.

"Not exactly..." the fox like boy muttered. "But Dumbledore's gone, classes are cancelled."

This made Harry swing his feet over to the cold stone floor, a look of alarm on his face. "Gone? How, what happened?"

"Malfoy's dad is pushing for Hagrid to be released, I heard, maybe Dumbledore too. You know, for the whole Fobidden Forest thing."

"Shit!" was Harry's eloquent response. Classes were cancelled, what were the professors most likely to do? If they hadn't gone with Dumbledore, then they would be stretched thin keeping an eye on the suddenly free students. Dumbledore was gone, it would be the absolutely _perfect_ time to pull something. Even if it failed, it would be just another nail in the old man's coffin.

_--How morbid--_

Harry hurriedly clasped his shoes on, glad that he had slept in his clothes for once. Even if it was against pureblood protocol. _Shut up._

"Hey, where are you going?" Nott called out as the other Slytherin made a frenzied dash for the door.

Harry barely paused long enough to shout over his shoulder, "Somewhere!" and then he was gone, skidding his way around several sharp turns in the dungeon maze, to the Commons where Hermione was already waiting.

"Third floor?"

Harry nodded, breathless. "Third floor."

An eleven year old boy and a twelve year old girl were not the best people to fight against an adult wizard but when it came down to it, they were the only ones who seemed willing to do anything about the You-Know-What. Whatever it is, it was important and now was as good a time as any to find out what it was, and exactly who was after it. Harry would bet twenty galleons it was Quirrel.

"Harry," Hermione paused just outside of the Commons. "What about Malfoy?"

The dark haired boy shook his head once sharply. "He's still recovering and Pomfrey watches that place like a hawk now."

The girl drew herself up, red spots of indignation flaming on her cheeks as she glared at him. "Harry! If we can't use professors, we should at least have all the people we can rely on! Besides, he deserves-" A sudden, muffled silence. It was like she stopped talking, but he could clearly see her lips moving. The bracelet warmed.

Anger. Coiling like a snake in his gut. _--She defies us--_ **"I said leave him!"** Harry barked out. Just after, guilt curled sleepily in his stomach but he stubbornly ignored it. This was not a game. For a moment, Hermione's eyes seemed to unfocus...and then she nodded, looking sheepish.

"While injured would just be putting him in more danger, wouldn't it?" she muttered softly. Harry didn't bother responding, just taking off. There was this sense of urgency driving him onwards through Hogwarts' hallways. Dumbledore was gone, teachers distracted, students not paying attention...

_--Thana not here--_

He shoved that reminder out of his mind as he impatiently waited for the staircase to move, Hermione at his back. It was an odd feeling, actually going to confront the bastard that pushed him off the Tower and broke his sodding neck in a forbidden corridor. Was this acting Gryffindor again, chasing down their professor? Or Slytherin, eliminating a threat when there was little chance of interference? Harry didn't have many offensive spells he could use but he did have one...

Harry clenched his wand tightly in rememberance of that black, twisting spell...

When the staircase came to stop, he took the last of the steps by twos but after only a few seconds of racing down the third floor hallway he had to snap on the brakes. It was a door there, in the middle of the empty hallway, but leaning against the door frame lazily...was Thana. Harry felt something twist in his chest as he stared at her tossing what looked like a 24 sided die.

Hermione nearly crashed into him. "Harry, wha-" The die flew up, then fell back down, a pause. Pale blue eyes swept over to him and she held up a hand, pressing her index finger to her lips.

"Don't make so much noise, will you?" she whispered. Harry blinked and she was gone again, the door opening by itself. He took a step towards it, the sound of his foot hitting the floor suddenly sounded much louder. _Dumbledore's gone, _Harry thought idly as he approached the forbidden room. _Teachers distracted, students not paying any attention...would it be so bad just to let him get the You-Know-What?_ He stopped before the door and there was that anger again. _Bastard killed my parents. _Voldemort was indirectly responsible for placing him with the Dursleys, he was going down.

And then Harry saw what was inside the room.

"Bloody hell..." he breathed. It was a dog. A very large dog with three heads, sleeping next to what looked like a huge trapdoor which lay wide open. In the far corner of the room, there was a small piano that was strumming with no visible players. Hermione let out a squeak behind him, but kept her mouth shut. _--I bet you five galleons that's Fluffy--_ a whisper said smugly in his head.

_Whatever, like you could pay up. _Watching the dog sleep, the boy had an epiphany: Being digested but not able to die would suck. He turned his head to Hermione who was still watching the animal with wide eyes. "Any ideas?" he mumbled under his breath.

She brought her wand up distractedly and pointed it at his feet. "Silencio." Even though he asked, he couldn't resist rolling his eyes.

"Roiiight..." Before he could loose his nerve, Harry did something very Gryffindorish. Namely, sprinting through the room and with only a single glance at the sleeping dog, threw himself head long down the gaping hole in the floor, praying he wouldn't break his neck again. Instead of the stone he was expecting, he landed on something cushy and vaguely...plant like... _--We should move before Hermione lands on us--_ Harry took two quick steps forwards, just in time to miss the body of the girl who bounced a bit. "Come on."

It was a strange tunnel leading out of it through another door, the fall hadn't taken that long, but there was still water leaking down the sides as if they were underneath the lake already. It opened up a huge room with the highest ceiling he had ever seen, higher than the Great Hall even and glittering all around were...

"What the fuck!?"

"Harry! Language!"

Buzzing keys. Flying keys, big ones, small ones, lumpy ones, rusty ones...keys to what looked like every lock in England were flying around on their very own sets of wings. It was a cute picture but Harry had been expecting something a bit more...lethal. You know, with the "painful death" warning and all. More and more things about this wasn't adding up. On the far side was a grated door that had a ragged and splintered half circle blown out of the right side, perfectly demolishing what might have been a lock.

Someone had been impatient.

Ah, well, less time wasted for them.

Scrambling through the hole, the two children came upon yet another obstacle in a darkened room: Wizarding Chess. Harry stifled a groan at the sight of the giant chessboard from the light of his _Lumos _and Hermione's haughty sniff. Ok, maybe they should have brought Malfoy, the only one who could actually play worth spit. The boy tilted his head, thinking rapidly. There were three pieces missing from their side of the board, but they had only two people. There was no way they would get through by playing...

"Hermione, take over on Lumos." The girl did so as Harry cast _Nox_ on his light and then walked over to the wall and kicked it as hard as he could. A second later he cold have sworn that he broke his toe. Either way, it _hurt_ and pain was what he needed. If they couldn't get through by the rules, then screw the rules.

Harry focused on his foot and his bracelet grew warm again. "**Crucio!"** he bellowed. There was the feeling of something snapping and a large, black, twisting beam erupted from his wand, sweeping over the board. The chess pieces went beserk. There was no other way to describe it. First, they were just sitting there still and the next they were hacking and slashing at everything in reach. The Queens on the board were making short work of all opposing pieces, being free by the rules of the game to move wherever they wanted to.

The feeling of eyes boring a hole in his skull made Harry turn to Hermione who had her hands on her hips.

"Accidental magic?" she accused. "Troll just went beserk? Harry, the Cruciatus is illegal!"

His green eyes turned cold. "Does that look like a regular Crucio?" He swept his hand in an arc at the board and wasn't surprised when she flinched. "You read about it, does it?" She shook her head no. "Would you rather I let the troll kill someone else!?" Silence. He rolled his shoulders in irritation. "I'm going to stop Quirrel, stay or go."

Bits of rubble weren't in any position to stop him, so Harry marched across the board, yanked open the door into the next room and stopped dead. And here he was just talking about a troll...

Harry didn't even stop to think. **"Crucio!"** Watching a troll kill itself in agony again wasn't high on Harry's list of favorite things to do and by the gagging noises coming from behind him, it wasn't Hermione's either. He figured the girl wouldn't stay behind just because he said so, she was stubborn like that. Through the next door, they came upon a room with a sheet of black flame blocking the way forward. There was a table with a row of potions on it and a word puzzle.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows while Harry sighed, cursing Dumbledore in his mind. These weren't security measures, these were tests. One green eye strayed to a small and empty bottle. Useless tests...

"Ok, seriously, _now_ you have to stay here." He gave the fire a meaningful glance. "Unless you are somehow flame retardant..." _--Or just retarded--_

_Took the words right from my mind._

Hermione seemed to know what he was thinking, raising an eyebrow but she didn't have much of a choice. Harry couldn't die. _But, _he thought as he faced the flames. _This will probably hurt._ Closing his eyes, he went at a dead run. As soon as he touched the fire, his world exploded.

* * *

_A sigh. "Here again?" The grey smoke was twisting and turning around them both as they stared at each other, a boy with an almost bored expression on his face and a similar looking man who seemed amused._

_"We really shouldn't make a habit of this."_

_A snort. "I do try but it kind of bites me in the ass sometimes." The boy scratched the back of his neck, half embarassed, half wondering. "I never seem to end up in one place after dying..."_

_"It's like being an infant," the man explained. "At first, you were completely reliant on Thana. Just a thought and she could reject you from Death. Now you're starting to crawl and its harder." The older set of emerald eyes narrowed at the small obsidian braclet on the boy's arm. "You could say that, for now, her hold on you is weakening..."_

_"Do I even count as human anymore?"_

_A thoughtful silence. "From the moment you got your scar...I don't think we ever were." A lopsided smile. "I'm sorry."_

_"Stop switching your bloody tenses." _

_And then the boy froze. Something about what was just said...was very familiar..._

* * *

With a groan, Harry pushed himself up from the floor on the other side. His skin was tender and he felt like one huge bruise. "Ow, ow, ow, ow...most painful death yet..."

"Harry? Are you alright?" Hermione's fretting carried over the crackling of the black flames.

"I'm fine!" he croaked back, patting himself down in relief. His clothes were just a little singed and his wand intact. Fighting Voldemort starkers would have been interesting but...no. Ready as he could ever be, he slowly walked into the next room. _Ha, I owe myself twenty galleons._ And there was Quirrel, muttering angrily at a broken Mirror of Erised.

His bracelet warmed. _--Someone interferes!--_

Quirrel turned around and instead of those washed out blue eyes, two pits of fire. Something dark, powerful, _familiar_ was pulsing off of him and Harry paled. DADA teacher, he could take. Voldemort? No worries. This though...Harry smiled weakly. "Fancy seeing you here..."

His professor's lips twisted into a cold smile. "Potter..." he raised his wand casually. "_Crucio." _

The boy was not at all prepared for the acidic yellow bolt that leapt towards him, catching him right in the chest. It was like that void all over again. The pain was ripping, tearing into him as he dropped to the floor screaming.

_--USE THE PAIN!--_

Harry could barely steady his wand as he gritted out his own Crucio. Quirrel merely sidestepped around the beam but even though the curse had been lifted, pain was still streaming through his body as if it had never stopped.

"Confused, are we, boy?" Quirrel hissed in amusement. "A perfect balance of Life to negate Death is delicate...a simple infusion and the Void will finish what it started!"

"H-how..." Harry started weakly, a hair away from flopping about in agony.

"Allies...in high places..." Harry's left hand up to his elbow promptly exploded in a shower of fine red mist. "You can expect to suffer quite a bit."

Inside the boy's head, a shouting match was going on.

_--I didn't choose for you to give up now!--_

_What can I do!? _Harry shouted back. _The Void is killing me, Death is killing me! I'm a goner! This is it! All she wrote! The End! Hasta Never Again! _He suddenly got the feeling that the whisper had pulled back.

_--You disgust me--_

The emotional pain from that statement, was almost on par with what he was feeling physically as his right leg went the same way as his arm. _I don't know what to do..._

_--You don't want to die? At least kill HIM first--_

A sibilant rasp spoke from the back of Quirrel's head. _"This is taking far too long...kill the boy!"_ Quirrel wouldn't dare use the Killing Curse, especially with what happened last time to his master but another spell, Reducto maybe, or...His twisted smile grew wider. With his bare hands...

Harry was rapidly feeling more and more hopeless as Quirrel's hands cut off his air supply. Right arm up to shoulder, gone. He couldn't hold his wand, didn't have the strength to kick or headbutt, nothing...Left leg, gone. His vision was starting to turn black and a strange emptiness was growing in his chest. Without thinking about it, Harry's gaze focused on Quirrel's neck.

Or specifically, the vein he could just see pumping there.

_I don't want to die. _The thought floated through the haze. He could hear himself still trying to scream. _Quirrel won't die, he has life. His heart...beats..._ Something in Harry reached out and latched onto his professor...and pulled. The hands fell away as the man let out a keening wail with a hissing undertone. Harry kept pulling, somehow feeling two distinct textures as if he was holding something in his non-existent hands. One felt fluffy, like marshmallows and the other was oily. The second kept twisting, trying to get away, causing Harry's grip to tighten.

The oil squirmed and then slipped. A dark cloud with red eyes shot out of Quirrel's body to vanish through the ceiling. There was a loud _crack!_ and whatever he was holding came loose. Quirrel seemed to shimmer and split into two, the second copy dove into Harry's body. There was the feeling of being dumped in ice water as the pain washed away in waves. His professor teetered on his feet, and then crashed to the floor like someone had cast _Petrificus Totalus_ on him. Harry just slumped against the wall, a limbless body.

_--...nice work...--_ a whisper said weakly and Harry nodded to himself. It was very nice, if he did say so himself...

People burst into the room but Harry's eyes wouldn't focus on them. They were just person-shaped shadows to him...and then blobs of darkness...

And then nothing.

* * *

As she watched with calm, electric blue eyes, one of the leaves on her Tree withered, and died. Floating down to the ground of Zion as something twisted, brittle and ugly. Used. Palquenta's lip curled in disgust.

"Another talented true necromancer. My, my, you sure do know how to pick them, Thana."

* * *

_Harry was walking along a path to somewhere. He didn't know where, just that he needed to be there. It wasn't a real path that he was walking on, no markers or anything, just a feeling that he simply could not get lost among the white smoke. He would get to his destination._

_He emerged and stared up a bit uncertainly at a large pearl. That was where he needed to go, wasn't it? He took a step and then stopped. Why?_

_"What are you doing here?"_

_He turned his head and saw a girl about his age there. Wild and dark long hair, eyes closed and a large toothy grin on her face. Harry shrugged. "Someone wants me here."_

_The wide grin faded into a confused frown. "Are you tired?"_

_"Huh?"_

_"Tired, you know, don't you?" She opened one eye and he was stunned to see the palest shade of blue he had ever seen. "I've always been tired, I think. For as long as I can remember, anyway, so I come here and it makes me feel better."_

_Harry turned back to look at the pearl. Well, maybe he was a little tired... "Don't you sleep?"_

_She laughed, an infectious high tinkling. "Of course, silly! I mean tired of doing the same thing every day, it wears you real down." She then leaned forward, as if she was about to tell him a big secret as the other eye opened. Gold. "I think the universe gets tired too."_

_His face scrunched up in confusion and he tilted his head. How'd planets and stuff get tired? "How so?"_

_"Doing the same stuff over. Empires go up, they go down. People get born, they die. Storms start, they end, doesn't it seem boring?"_

_"I wouldn't like to do it," he admitted and her smile came back. Harry decided he liked that smile. It was so...open as compared to...he lost the train of thought. Compared to who? Himself?_

_"Don't worry," she patted his cheek playfully. "Once I'm Always, it'll all be different. My way is better, you'll see."_

_"I will?" A goofy smile was trying to force itself onto his face as his cheeks grew warm._

_"Yeah! But," she closed her eyes. "You're not ready yet."_

_The ground suddenly fell away and he toppled backwards, facing upwards, seeing her wave cheerfully down at him not at all concerned..._

* * *

Harry opened his eyes to familiar pale blue ones.

"Lo, Potter." Thana murmured, looking as worried as he'd ever seen her. He was in the Hospital Wing in the far corner, curtain drawn around him for privacy. She drew back a little, seeming to realize that she was invading his personal space.

"Hi." he said awkwardly back. His arm twitched and a small smile placed itself firmly on his lips. "Did you...?"

"Yeah."

Another awkward silence.

"Thanks."

Her lips twitched upwards but didn't form a true smile. He was disappointed to see that. "You're welcome."

Harry floundered for something to say. That was closest to irreversible death he had ever been. Thana had been worried, for crying out loud! But talking about his recent adventure didn't seem like a good idea. But the other topic he wanted to talk about, was just as sensitive.

_Bugger it._ "What am I to you? Are we friends or not?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "The truth?" He nodded. "You're mine."

Had anything been in his mouth, he would have choked. "What!?" he cried out, feeling himself turn red in embarassment.

"You're mine. I gave you a friend when you needed one, got you out of the cupboard, saved you from your uncle, I made sure you never have to go back to the Dursleys again." She held up his reformed arm and he realized that the bracelet was still on it. "I gave you one of my weaknesses, boy. You. Are. Mine. That's all you need to know." She dropped his arm like a hot potato, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "I'm...going to go now."

She vanished.

Harry settled back in to sleep but he was just hovering on the edge of unconsciousness when he felt someone tug at the bracelet. He snapped his arm to his chest, cradling it protectively. "Harry," Dumbledore's voice rumbled pleasantly somewhere to the right. "It really isn't safe for you to keep this."

The boy just held it tighter, rolling to make it extra difficult to get at it without the old man looking like a child molester. "It's mine," he snapped sleepily, childishly. "She's mine."

If Albus Dumbledore noticed the slip, he didn't comment.

* * *

YAY! Done with this stupid thing...took me far longer than I would like getting it somewhat how I wanted it...


	21. Take a Breath

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**A/N: And here is the very last chapter of HPaDI, its been a fun ride, folks! Keep a sharp eye out for the next in the newly dubbed Incarnate series!**

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

* * *

_"Screams! Tears, death and decay, so glorious and at the same time, so ugly. It makes me sick and now I'm sick of myself. The same damn thing...I can see it, you know. See myself cut loose and just drift down my own River to Judgment where I'll never have to bother with any of this shit ever again. Why is it always the same? Ha, Always...did that count as a joke? No? Well, it damn well doesn't make sense! Always is change, Never is not so then why is the universe trapped in this cycle? I die, the next Incarnate will just carry it on forever afterwards. Hell, I can't even die without a Chosen because I'm Death! Never changing, it shouldn't be this way. Is the Weave doing this to us? Do we really have so little choice? No, I can change Everything, I know how, I can do it but...should I? Yin, you're like a mother to me, to all of us, I need you to tell me...I need you to tell me that what I'm planning to do is wrong! If I destroy Everything, bring about the End before it's Time...will you hate me? Please...don't lie..." - Incarnate of Death, Thanatos_

* * *

"Huh..." Harry couldn't stop his mouth from dropping into a small 'o' as he tilted his head to the right. "You really did have a manor..."

The term "manor" was a very modest one, the place looked closer to a castle than anything else. The deep black stone it was made of seemed to absorb all light that hit it, glowing with an inner fire that raised the hair on the back of the boy's neck. Tall turrents were more square than round, complete with hard edges and pointed tips, the moat was more like a swamp and the "front door" was a rusty porticlus. As far as Harry could tell, the only reason it got away with being called a manor was the fact that the drawbridge couldn't be raised.

Thana swept past him, waving a nonchalant hand in the air. "More like your cousin's manor, you didn't think I impersonated someone who didn't exist, did you?" she asked airily. Surprised, he quickly grabbed hold of his trunk and jogged a bit to catch up to her longer strides.

"You mean I really did have family here?"

"Hmmm, yes," she placed a hand on the door before pausing thoughtfully. "And had they been allowed to raise you, they might have still existed." And just like that, Harry's mood darkened as she pushed the door open.

_--Dumbledore's a bastard--_ a whisper said helpfully from within Harry's mind once he crossed the door threshhold.

_We said it._ Harry roughly shook his head. _You said it, you...Y.O.U...I need to stop talking to myself._ He could have sworn the other voice laughed.

"Now, for the first order of business..." Thana's voice echoed down one of the hallways. Harry dumped his floating, black trunk just off to the side of the large, double sided front door and took an astonished look around. The Dursleys were a proud upper middle class family, with their three bedroom, two bathroom house on Privet Drive. This place though, looked as if it belonged to someone who had money up the wazoo. Rich dark woods lined the walls, alternating between an almost black and a deep red. The floor had plush carpet that had Harry almost itching to take off his shoes and run around. Chandeliers, glass cases that housed ceremonial armor, everywhere he looked there was some evidence of money well spent.

His gaping came to an abrupt end when he was smacked upside the head.

"Ow! What the hell was that for!?" Thana just raised an eyebrow at him. _--We weren't paying attention to single thing she was saying--_ And...caught. A sheepish smile crept across his face. "Um, oops?"

She turned up her nose. "Oops?" she said derisively. "Well, I guess you don't want to see what I found here about your parents..."

Emerald eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Really? You found something?" Thana turned on her heel and made her way back down the hallway she was in earlier, this time with Harry practically melding with her shadow.

"It's more of a someone..." It was a painting, of a woman with dark waves of hair and pale hazel eyes, a heart shaped face, button nose and her plaque read: Constanze Magdeline Ergusson, loving daughter 1963-1981. Harry let out a gasp and the portrait did the same.

"James!?" The boy blinked. Her voice was light and snooty sounding. "No, you are far too young...not to mention the wrong colour of eyes..." The real Constanze turned to Thana who had a self satisfied air about her. "Is he...?"

"Oh, yes."

"Hello!" Harry blurted out, annoyed. "I'm _right here!"_ Both women just looked at him until he turned red.

"No..." Thana drawled. "You don't say..." Harry opened his mouth for a retort but she cut him off. "Anyway, boy, this is Constanze, your father's ex-fiancee." His mouth dropped open further. "Constanze, this is James' and Lily's son Harry."

The painting curtsied politely, albeit a bit stiffly. "Pleased to meet you, finally." Harry couldn't get the words out and just stood there, gaping. _Ex-fiancee...Dad was going to marry someone else? _

_--You can't say it hasn't happened before--_

_Well, yeah, but I couldn't...not really, well you see...not to my parents!_

Thana clapped her hands together, about to say something, when she froze. Both boy and painting raised an eyebrow at her strange behavior, her hands still in the air mid clap. Harry couldn't really explain, even to himself, what happened next but it was almost as if Thana...shifted. Change in posture, attitude or something but one moment she was as infuriating as always and the next, even though he could reach out and tag her, she seemed so very far away.

Her eyes flashed gold. "The wards," she murmured quietly and gave Harry an unreadable look. "We have company."

Harry gave his bravest smile. "Friends of yours?"

And there was that smirk of hers again. "Why don't we go see?"

* * *

It most definitely was not a friend.

_"Pal."_ Thana and Harry snarled at once and Life Incarnate just gave them a superior smirk.

"Pleased to see me?" Palquenta was seated on air as if she was in a high backed seat with her legs crossed daintily. The only thing that didn't fit into the picture of angelic delicacy was the strange sword laid across her lap. It had a gleaming silver sheath that was lined with little thorn ridges. The crossguard was a circular ring of petals and if Harry had thought about it, it kind of looked like a rose.

"Your Artifact won't kill me," Thana sneered. "And I'll kill _you_ if the boy gets even a scratch." Harry teetered a bit. That was almost...nice to hear from her. But it also scared him. Not a scratch? Kill...for a scratch?

Pal's smirk just got wider. "I'm here to give it to him, actually, a challenge of sorts."

"We won't play your games, Pal."

"Nuh uh uh!" Pal wiggled an index finger at Thana playfully. "I'm afraid he has no choice, it's Always-sanctioned. He _will_ play."

_Alright,_ ran through Harry's mind. _That's it, I'm already sick of this. _"Would someone please tell me what the bloody hell is going on!?"

"Palquenta's challenging your immortality," Thana spat out the side of her mouth, blue eyes dangerously flickering between gold and white. "You win, you keep it. You lose, Death gets you." Harry paled, knowing how that felt. "Shit like this is why we usually don't allow immortals...The terms are, Pal?"

Pal lifted the sword, holding it out flat on her palms as if she was ceremoniously giving it to someone, smiling wickedly. "The Rose, a sword that always hungers for a chance to save a life, my challenge for one Harry J. Potter is thus: No matter what happens at Hogwarts next year, you will not draw it." Harry hissed in anger, knowing what she was going to say next. "With the power to save everyone, you'll have to stand by and watch." With a quick movement, she drove the sheathed sword into the ground. She then vanished, her voice still on the wind. "I'd wish you good luck but..."

Leaving the Rose still standing proudly out of the ground.

_--No matter what...wanna bet she'll make something happen?--_

_You can't pay up._

A mental silence as Thana began cursing up a blue streak, angrier than he'd ever seen her. "That bitch! Stupid ass whore, why the fucking hell would she...argh! Why does she have to get in the fucking way _of everything!?"_

_--We hate her, don't we?--_

_We do._

With a heavy sigh, Harry turned back around to the manor and opened the door.

**FIN

* * *

**

Pretty soon, Harry Potter and the Breath of Life will be up. More plotting, more questions, some answers and Palquenta's personal quest to make both Harry and Thana's existence hell.


	22. Notice

**NO this is not another chapter but simply a message.**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life is up! At this point in time it has four chapters to it so check it out!**

Summary: The Chamber of Secrets has reopened and both students and teachers are swept into Harry's issues with the Incarnates, Life in particular. Act, and he loses his life to Death. Don't act and the consequences may just be the same...


	23. I'm Back!

This is just a notice for everyone who has read my story _Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate_ and its sequel _Harry Potter and the Breath of Life. _After five years of inactivity I am back and eager to get to work. Shortly after this notice, the beginning of the rewrite of HPaDI should be posted on my profile. A lot of things have stayed the same but a _lot _of things have also changed. I'll be leaving the older version on the site and if you're interested the title is _Deathly Hallowed._

_Enjoy!_


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